Losing Touch
by A.O.T.I.F
Summary: When Voldemort decides to visit Grimmauld Place, Harry willingly decides to accompany him. Lots of teenage angst, content/mentions regarding abuse, rape, self-mutilation... LVxHP complete
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm obviously not making any money off this, so what makes you think I own Harry Potter?

Disclaim her: The Angels have returned.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Severus, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. I don't write for children.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I don't own the quote stated below.

A/N: Happiness is not the absence of problems, but rather the ability to deal with them.

Chapter 1: Out of control

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I can see you; I know you can feel my eyes on your back as you walk away. I know you don't care. You didn't help me at all when he…passed. I was right, but no one listened to me. They all trusted you and made me look like a fool. They _always_ made me look like a _fool_.

You don't believe me either way, do you? You don't think I can cope with this? Maybe I can…or maybe I can't. Either way, you and I will be here in the end won't we? Or perhaps we will not. Who knows?

But _I_ know that _you_ know that he's going to win, that's why you're so worried now. Worried about my state of mind, and if I will be competent enough to fight for you, for our… _cause_. For no one else but I can really meet his level of strength can they?

It's truly all just a struggle for the ultimate prize. Whoever has Golden Boy, The-Boy-Who-Lived, can win. For with him on one side, that shows the crucial outcome of this utterly ridiculous war.

I also know that you don't want me to talk to him. For if I happen to, I going to bet anything that I have worth gambling off that he'll tell me things about you and things about me that you kept hidden away from me all this time.

Merlin, I wish you would leave me alone as I'm fine. Perfectly _fine_. I can't stay here anymore however; I feel as if someone is watching me. Probably another one of your spies, no doubt. You just can't trust me, can't you? No, no. I understand this well. You think I'm going to hurt someone or inflict damage onto myself? Get over yourself, old man, why haven't you noticed before now? Are you truly that senile?

I want to go sleep, I've been so fucking tired lately that I haven't been able to pay attention to anything properly. Damn it, any contact with you makes my head burn! He can see you through me. Ah… why can't you tell…?

It's actually rather amusing though, as you finally appear to notice that something is not quite _right_, and as you turn back toward me and I won't meet your gaze, I to prove to you how truly wrong this really is. You try to grip my chin to make me look into your eyes but I yank away, much to your disappointment. I've always been a disappointment, haven't I? A… disgrace?

Now it is I who walks away with those eyes on my back, making me want to strangle you on the spot for all the hurt you've caused me through the years. But a small part of me, far back in the depressions of my mind, wants you to do something, anything to make me feel better, even if it just is a little bit. But that part is crushed, as the fresh wounds you've inflicted onto me resurface into my thoughts as clear as if they're happening at that exact moment in time. So there is absolutely no chance now for you to redeem yourself into my eyes.

I ascend the stairs without another glance back at you and enter my room to find them there, waiting for me to tell them what you said to me. They're such backstabbers though, making me trust them and then running off to tell you whatever I've said later on. Sneaks. They should have been labeled sneaks along with that girl Marrieta, always telling the teachers that I'm not well and a number of other things that people _do not_ need to know about me. Even now, if I told them not to tell anyone about what you told me, they'd go run off to you the minute they had the chance to.

That's why I can't trust anyone. I may be _paranoid_, but this didn't just happen out of the blue. It took a number of suspicions about them and you that happened to occur over the years. And now people wonder why I "see" things in the shadows. No, I'm not just seeing things. They're really there. Although, I admit I may be imagining things when I see _Malfoy_ out of the corners of my eyes, but not with them. They try to follow me wherever I go. I should hope that you are not having them spy on me, but then again, I don't think I'd put it past you nowadays. It's about as low as you could get even though I would understand your spying if you had some credence to the assumptions you've made on me. I suppose that would be all right. But since you don't have any evidence to comply with the things you've accused me of, I can't find any rights in this wrong.

They're asking me what you said again. They're asking if something is wrong because I didn't answer right away. I wonder what I should tell them, or if I should say anything at all. I know they'll tell you whatever I say. They always do.

"He didn't say anything, why do you ask?" I can feel my hand nearly form into a fist in annoyance.

"We were just wondering, Harry. You haven't been yourself lately." Hermione says almost as if she's concerned for me. As if that was _ever_ true.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, as I go to my trunk to look for my wand. I shouldn't have left it anywhere as they'd probably go and steal it. Sneaks.

"We mean…" Ron begins but I interrupt him brusquely.

"We." I almost burst out in laughter at how stupid what they've said sounds.

"Yes, _we_ were wondering why you seem so depressed."

"Ah, you're wondering why I'm so down." I can feel my fingers beginning to form into a fist and it takes effort to push down the urge to hit either one of them.

"Yes, Harry. We're worried about you." Hermione says softly.

"Really." I hope they caught the sarcasm.

There is a short silence as I can feel their gazes on me as I completely ignore them and continue rummaging through my trunk. Where in the hells is my wand!

"You're _wondering _why I'm so "depressed." Now that's interesting. Why would I be so… _unhappy_? Let me think…Oh, I remember now. My godfather's dead. I guess there's no reason to care about that, is there now?"

"Harry…"

"No, don't you say anything. I'm sick of hearing you say things about me to Dumbledore. You want to be his snitches, I don't care." I turn my back on them.

" Harry, it's not like that. You don't understand."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what I don't understand. I understand this _perfectly_."

"Please, don't do this again--" Hermione says anxiously.

"Do what? I'm just telling it like it is." I smile at them and they shrink away in fear. Oh, this is just absolutely _precious_! They think I'm going to hurt them. Well, they deserve it, even though this not the time for such crude actions. They'll tell _you_ about this later, mark my words.

"Harry…"

"Stop saying my name, you're wearing it out." I walk out of the room as I finally find my wand. I really should get a room of my own; I can't stand living with them. They grate on my nerves more than my scar burns. And almost on cue, it burns sharply, causing me to grip the wall beside me.

Luckily, I left the room before they could start giving me lectures about how I need to tell you about this and practice blocking my mind from these attacks that he gives me. If they had even started on that, they would probably no resemble human form anytime soon. …The pain subsides and I go downstairs to find you finally have left. Thank all the good gods in the world, if there were any to begin with.

There isn't anyone down here right now except Snape, and he doesn't even seem to notice me as I enter the kitchen to get some water. Here's even more proof that I'm just a thing to be used and manipulated. No one's going to pay attention to something like that.

It looks like he's sleeping, as his eyes are closed and he's breathing softly, but I'm not going to make noise to try to get him to pay attention to me. That's the last thing I want. He's been really on edge lately, but I've quickly learned how to stay out of his way. I begin looking for a glass for my water.

"…Potter." Damn, he wasn't sleeping after all.

"Yes sir?" I turn to face him, empty glass in hand, and find he's right behind me. Holy shit. The glass drops from my hands and shatters upon contact with the floor. How the hell did he get in back of me without so much as a sound?

I back up into the counter regardless of the glass on the ground. This isn't right.

"Honestly, Potter, you'd think I was going to hurt you from the way you're acting." He stands there, and I know there's something different that I can't place about him. It's in the corners of my mind trying to be grasped, but I can't. Where have I seen this before?

"What are you doing?" I ask without emotion as he grips my arm and shooting pain pierces my head. My free hand's fingers dig into my palm, nails close to breaking through flesh as the pain increases.

" I need to…talk to you. Something has…happened that I need your…help in." He looks into my eyes and makes eye contact with me. His eyes are empty. What the--

"He's…hurt."

"Who?" He's even closer now, his shoes are crunching on the glass that's on the floor.

"_Him_." He's so close that I can see the specks in his eyes. He leans against me and I freeze in my surprise. But then, I can feel how cold he is.

"How did this happen?"

"…Aurors. They ambushed us and they took down some of our best…" He pauses and moves away while he coughs up blood in the sink. He rests his hands on the edge of the sink and just breathes for a few moments. I have no idea why he's telling me of these things and why I was just accepting it. Maybe I didn't care anymore. Or maybe I never really cared to begin with. There really isn't anything else to lose I suppose. Maybe that's why I did what I did in the next moment.

"I'll help you. I know what's wrong with you."

"We…weren't talking about me." He barely manages to breathe out. I finally make the connection.

" You're coughing up blood. There's obviously something wrong with you. This whole time you have been talking about him when you know it's you who's needed the most help. When did this first happen?" I'm by his side now.

"Weeks ago…when the term was still in session and Black was still alive." The pain in my head increases, but I push it back. This is not the time for that.

"When? I need to know exactly."

He coughs and hacks blood into the sink once more. "First…week of June. I knew something was…wrong when I was in my chambers. I couldn't…breathe. Just like…right now. I didn't want to suspect anyone…because I thought it was just some kind of wizard illness that had been going around. Although, when it didn't subside…I began to think it was Dumbledore." I lead him to a chair but he only just grips the top of it for what seems to be support.

"Why Dumbledore?"

"He was getting…sick of me not getting any information for him. He wanted me to tell me what the Dark Lord was doing, but I couldn't do that. I didn't want to fight for him anymore. I hated fighting for a lost cause."

"…." I say nothing as he stands up straight once more.

"Potter, haven't you noticed what the objective has been for all these months now? He hasn't been trying to kill you anymore. He wants you to join his side, that's why he hasn't gone on any massacres." He sways a little as he moves to go out the door.

"Where are you going? I said I would help you."

"Will you join him? That's all he wants now. He just needs you."

" For what? To be his weapon?" I find myself unable to breathe properly and I draw another glass from the cabinet. I turned on the faucet to drain away the blood and then I fill the glass up.

"Not a weapon, Mr. Potter. I would just like the reassurance that you are with me and not that senile old man."

"Why are you here? I'm tired and don't want to prolong this any more than necessary. You want to kill me, just get it over with. I don't care. My care abandoned me when that bitch of yours, Bellatrix, killed my godfather." I turn around, the glass in my hand shaking, as I fight to control the anger inside of me that wanted me to do something, anything to wipe that calm, practically amused look off his face.

"I'm not going to kill you Potter. There's no need to, you've done just about enough to kill yourself these past few weeks."

Unable to continue looking at that face any longer, without thinking of the consequences, I hurl the glass at him. He merely steps aside and it breaks against the wall. My anger burns within me, wanting nothing more than an outlet to be released out upon. I fight to be calm and draw my wand out of my robes and repair the glass by the sink and set it down on the counter.

"Aren't you still an underage Mr. Potter?" Something in his voice tells me that he isn't looking for answer because he already knows the answer.

"Yes." I don't want to have to talk to him any more. My scar burns again slightly as my thoughts about the Dark Lord became rather increasingly sadistic.

"Come, we're leaving. I would rather you come quietly and without a scene."

"Who said I was going to come with you?" I bite the inside of my lip. This I actually hadn't seen coming.

"Do you really want to stay here?"

"There are other places I can go." I finally realize that Snape had left and it had just been Voldemort and I this whole time. His presence is making me uncomfortable and his aura is practically suffocating…like mine, I realize after a few seconds. Like I really needed more things to add to my breathing problems.

"What's wrong with your breathing?" He asks, approaching me as I simply stand there in front of him.

"Nothing that should be of any concern to you. Just kill me and get it over with, I told you I wasn't bothered by this anymore."

"I'm not going to." He lifts me up into his arms and begins walking me out of the kitchen. I give no protests to this act surprisingly. His body is just about as cold as Snape's is, and I can feel his arms through his robes. He's _freezing_.

"They'll know that I'm gone even though they don't care about me."

"Do _you_ care?"

"No." Some rational part of me that hadn't been screwed up over the years wants me to have Him put me down but is suppressed again by the part of me that doesn't mind about whatever might happen now. We're out the door unnoticed through some kind of miracle, and he Apparates us away.

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A.O.T.I.F.: (sigh)

Please review.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I really don't own Harry Potter.

Disclaim her: Death creates nothing.

Rating: M for Mature. Children, go away. I don't want to make you cry now.

Point of View: This will be written in a third person way but it's a little different than normal I suppose. The next chapter will revert back to first person.

I don't own the quote stated below.

A/N: You never get a second chance to make a first impression.

Chapter 2: Aftermath

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It's almost sad when they see you watching them, during that short point where they actually acknowledge your presence, and they seem to pity you. But you know, really, that that isn't true. No one cares about you or anything to do with you. You're all alone in a sea of faces that are all just as blank as the next. Blank, just like you. You think you can do things, but know you really can't. It's all just the same in the end; everyone's the same. We hate what makes us different and cherish the small things that make us just like everyone else. You want to be not what makes everyone the odd uniqueness that is them, but the thing that makes everyone the same.

When they start to push you, make you want to fall, in a way you can't find the strength to be concerned for the simple reason that one and all have forgotten about you, forgotten to notice you; care about you. And since they've forgotten, they don't appear to see your fall from graces and glory. They, the same ones who were the ones to first lift you onto their shoulders in the beginning, let go of your hand when you initially started to break away.

It's almost like you were standing, and then the ground's crumbling beneath your feet and you submerge farther down, deep into the abyss they seem to have created just for you. Keep trying to escape, and all that happens is that you continue to slip from whatever piece of sane mind you've managed to salvage after all this time.

Oh, it hurt in the beginning, that's the primary reason why they didn't want to look at you. A savior has to be perfect in every way and completely untainted. Any flaws must be eradicated and the only way they will be resurrected is if someone is purposefully trying to take you apart. Humans don't like flaws; they absolutely detest them in any shape or form. The only thing they like is perfection, and when it is chipped or marred in any way, they will leave you, desert you, almost as if you never existed to begin with. They leave you for someone who can live up to their expectations, which always happen to change depending on the world around them.

After awhile, you started to not respond when they paid attention to you for those short moments of time and then, a short while after that you began to hate them for their ignorance. Sometimes you despise them for causing this to happen to yourself and sometimes it's for them not saving you when you needed them the most. The only real similarity between love and hate is the time it takes for one to become the other.

So, it became as it is. You, fading from your pathetic, meager existence and watching the others move on with their even more pointless lives, supposedly nothing else of greater importance than that, while you're in some kind of standstill, only being able to watch and not participate. But you don't mind, because of course, in the end, you'll get them back, for all the lies, for the betrayals, and for all the times they chose to disregard you. You have all the time in the world itself, and in one way or another, in some shape or form, revenge will find a way. And when it does, it will be catastrophic.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Did you like it or not?

Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Crazy people don't own anything; I thought you people knew that by now.

Disclaim her: The angel isn't going anywhere.

Note: Out of character majoring with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, I advise you to evacuate.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I don't own the quote stated below.

A/N: Don't run away from your weaknesses and fears. Face them…learn about them…and defeat them.

Chapter 3: Strategy

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I try to pretend that I don't notice his eyes on my back as I walk a few paces ahead of his through the courtyard of his manor. It's infuriating! It makes me want to do something; to hit him, strangle him, anything that will make my feelings on what he's doing to me right now apparent. Damn his to the hells if there ever was one. Rolling my eyes as I feel his gaze almost intensify, I glance up at the sky and see it's a wondrous clear blue that burns into my pupils. It really is lovely.

As my gaze turns back downwards something flashes in one of the windows that gives me the distinct impression that more than one person is watching me. It appeared that there were faces in those windows… That would be typical. I chuckle wryly and I can feel his confusion through the half link that's been establishing over the past year that makes me feel his emotions. I wonder if he can feel mine. I wish he could, for then he would know how furious I am at his at the moment.

"What, I can't laugh?" I'm smirking even though he can't see it.

He makes no response to my remark and we continue walking. We reach the front doors of the Riddle Manor some time later and I can hear him murmur a charm, and the doors swing open silently. Surprisingly, there aren't any people in the foyer even though I had sensed many in here mere moments ago. This causes me no distress as suddenly feel a few shields fall as the Death Eaters prepare to launch an attack.

"You know," I begin speaking as I imagine myself breaking down shields and then I can hear cracking around the room and some not a mere ten paces away from myself. Such pathetic servants the Dark Lord has these days. However, this includes everyone except Malfoy Sr. Now _he _can pose a threat at times and it makes me absolutely _livid_ because I know I'm as powerful as Voldemort but Lucius has the ability to take me down! That does _not_ hold well.

"I _might_ have been scared of your Death Eaters attacking if their attacks weren't so predictable to begin with. Take now, for example. They cast those invisibility spells on themselves and think that I won't trace the magical signature to the owner. I mean, _really_, it's just a pity that I'm not terrified out of my wits." I know I'm grinning like a maniac and personally, I don't give a damn. They deserve to be scared. Thinking that they can actually ambush me. Ha! Idiots…

I draw my wand out from the sleeve that I had slid it up earlier and aim toward where Bellatrix is still hidden but as her shields are broken, I can sense her aura. I'll make that bitch suffer as much as she's made me endure over the past few months. She deserves it! She killed my godfather, the only person I had left that loved…me…but… that's in the past now, I tell myself as regain my stature. There is no need to think of things that hurt you.

I push the feelings that I had for my godfather away and can feel his questing mind gently probing at me. I shove him out sharply and laugh in the satisfaction it gives me as a quickly concealed pained expression appears on the Dark Lord's features.

"Don't try that again, Tom. I'll cause you damage next time. No need for you to lose your mind when this 'war' has only just begun between the-" Saying the word 'light'' makes me snicker. "- And Dark." I start laughing again but this time it is without restraint and I find myself unable to stop. As I feel his slight anxiety develop through my actions I begin to laugh even harder and I feel all shields fall. Stupid fools. Trying to attack me when I'm distracted, are they?

"Silencio!" I yell, as they are barely half a second away from casting spells onto me. Malfoy Sr. is not present at that second. Good for him. I don't want to have to hurt him at the moment. He is…not like the others. The Death Eaters are clasping their throats as they find that they can't speak. I swear, stupid.

All the Death Eaters freeze in place, unable to move with a thought from me but their eyes flicker from me to Voldemort and then back to the freak that I've obviously become in their eyes.

"You're underage, Potter." Voldemort sneers in disgust.

"That's apparent. Where have you been these past five years?" I'm just about ready to smack him again. What is it about him that grates on my nerves so much nowadays? I _detest_ the way he makes me feel.

"I'd rather not get any letters from the Ministry which will reveal my Manor's location."

Anger again swirls within me as it is fought down. It wouldn't do for him to know about some of the worse things I can do without my wand. That would ruin everything and I would no longer have the so-called 'upper hand.' "You won't get any kind of owl about that. They can't detect my wandless magic. Or do you want them to find out about me and have them snap my wand? That will make it all better, yes?"

"You know Potter, you're really starting to get on my nerves."

"The feeling's mutual, you bastard." The moment the words leave my lips his fist connects with my stomach and I land on my back and slide a few feet away from him. My wand flies out of my hand. I call it back with a thought but it is useless as he steps on my wrist.

I can't breathe. No, I couldn't breathe well before, but now it's a completely different story as I'm gasping for breath like a fish out of water as he's knocked the air entirely out of my lungs. It hurts so damn much as I'm choking but not taking in air into my lungs.

"I…fucking…hate…" I'm trying to breathe but to no avail.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He whispers, a bit addled at my actions. Why can't he just dig into my thoughts and figure out what the hell is wrong with me for Merlin's sake! I could die by the time he manages to figure out what's happening to me! But…then again…I guess that would be a pleasant alternative to staying and living on in this misery.

He picks me up while I'm off thinking these things and quickly walks me out of the room. He breaks into a run when he's out of sight of his Death Eaters, cradling me against his chest while I don't give an ounce of protest in my entire body. As he continues maintaining contact with me, I realize I can breathe a little, even if it is in small gasps. He still running through the halls at a pace so fast it makes my eyes blur all objects together. A second later he Apparates us both to a set of rooms that I presume are his.

I'm too much on the verge of unconsciousness to realize that he has set me down on his bed and is drawing out his wand and is murmuring one spell after another trying to improve my breathing and/or cure it.

After he says yet another spell, this one being much more complex than the others so far, I feel my world suddenly come into focus and I'm breathing beautiful air into my lungs once more. I settle back against the pillows and am glad to find that this bed is actually comfortable. As I blink and gaze up at the Dark Lord I can see that he has a frightened look engulfing his features that he can't seem to control. He looks almost as if he's on the breaking point and one more thing will be what it takes to push him over the edge.

"Potter?" his voice is low.

"Yes," I reply as I push my bangs away from my eyes as they're obscuring my view.

I shakily begin to draw myself out of his bed but he reaches me to push me back down with a grip I can't drive off. I know he can feel my heart hammering in my chest as if it's going to explode.

"Are you all right Potter?" He draws off my glasses and places them on the nightstand as a hand remains on my chest.

"Never better, thanks to you. You didn't need to do that."

"You were going to die from the lack of air. What did you want me to do?"

"Let me die." I retort in disgust.

"There's more to life than dying Potter."

"Not at this point there isn't." I mutter as I attempt to turn away but he grips my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. I make my features blank as he searches my face for something that will help him figure me out I suppose. He bends down so our faces are dangerously close together and the thought crosses my mind to spit at him. But I know that that wouldn't do any good.

He sighs as he backs away once more. "Do want to tell me why?"

"No." If he found out what-

"If I found out what?" He says softly. How could I not feel him slip pass my defensive barriers!

"Nothing that should be of any concern of yours." I attempt to glare at him menacingly but he ruins it as he's pays no attention to me.

"Of course I'm paying attention to you, you think I can't see that glare you're directing toward me?" Again? How the hell is he getting in my mind?

"Potter…do you want to stay here at my Manor?"

"Are you even giving me a choice?" I ask flatly.

"I actually am." He's staring at me and it's making me uncomfortable for reasons I can't name.

"I don't know." I respond honestly.

"I'll take you back if you want me to."

…

…

"Harry?" He asks as he sees me looking beyond him into something only I can see. If I go back then you'll be able to come after me again and there won't be anyone to help me. "Harry?" he asks again.

I can't believe I'm agreeing to this but I don't have any other choice at the moment. "I'll stay here if it doesn't bother you that much." I mutter as I feel my cheeks color and I avert my eyes.

If he notices my blush, he says nothing of it. He releases his death grip on me and I lie back against the pillows and sigh out. You're going to miss fucking me until I'm raw, aren't you? My backside still hurts a little from where you did me a couple days ago. Voldemort is looking at me again, his face unreadable.

"Did you want something?"

"Do you want me to move you to a different room?" He asks as I resume eye contact with him.

"Is that necessary?" I'm only doing this to see if he's going to _force_ me into a different room.

"This is my room."

"And?" In my mind I'm chuckling to myself. I want to get him riled. He won't kill me after all.

"I believed you would want to get as far away from me as possible."

"Your bed is comfortable." I'm barely concealing a smirk as I fight to not laugh out loud. My eye twitches slightly.

"There are plenty of other just as comfortable beds in this house."

"So?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you? I know you're not dense Potter. I would like you to move into different quarters."

"I'd rather not, thank you." I say amused.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have a hearing problem, I know you can hear me. I will not be moving out into different quarters while your Death Eaters are here. They'd attack me the first chance that they got and then I'd have to go and kill them and then that would lead to awkward questions and so on." I roll my eyes as if that's the most obvious thing in the world and that he should have known that in the very beginning.

"Fine." He's apparently a little annoyed even though he knows I'm right about what I said.

"I'm glad that's settled then." I answer in response.

He sighs out and walks toward the door. As his hand is on the doorknob he pauses. "You can go wherever you want but just don't go and throw yourself into any confrontations with my servants. I'll give them orders to not harm you but if you provoke them, I might not be there to help you."

"Who said I needed your help?" I retort with open maliciousness held in my voice.

"I did. I'll be back in awhile."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugs offhandedly and I frown. He's changed somewhat from how he behaved when I fought him a couple months ago. He stares at me for a long moment and I smile cheekily back.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Well, another chapter done.

Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that involves any kind of Harry Potter merchandise i.e. the Harry Potter books.

Disclaim her: The human soul is made up of weak and fragile elements.

Note: None at this point in time.

Rating: M for Mature. Children should have left by now but I will still give a fair warning.

Point of View: In technical terms, this would be considered third person. (Even though it's said it's actually supposed to be second person but it can't because there is no such thing apparently.) This will be the last of these kinds of chapters for a point.

I don't own the quote stated below.

A/N: It's better to be alone than in bad company.

Chapter 4: The place

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You're in the abyss now. It's that wonderful darkness that you have waited for some time to guide you down the path of abnormality. There is no sense of time here; all it is is just dark, cold, and empty. Suits everyone just fine this way. While you're stumbling down the ever-fading path towards sanity, you tend to somehow end up entering the further clearing one of abnormality. It's almost amusing.

You find the energy to feel hatred to the idiots who decided that this was the best way to deal with you, no mess and no fuss. But that is just about all the energy you can spare, the rest has been somehow depleted.

Your mind wants to shut down; it doesn't want to know that it exists, almost like how your emotions feel. No one cares. If you had stopped to think about it, you would have realized that you couldn't have prevented any of this from actually happening. Still, as it is, they always reach in and pull you out of there at the last moment, where you were teetering on the cracking glass that is your thoughts of late. And every time they pull you out, they always do something, causing you to only remember screams and pain. And yet, nothing else but just that.

And then you're back again, sometimes it appears that you're just _there_, sometimes you're crouched in the corners trying not to cry or make any noise to disturb this atrocity of a place it becomes when you're brought back and still not completely used to it.

Sanctuary is nowhere, but hell is everywhere; in every crevice, in any crack or hole, it's just waiting till you can't take it anymore so it will be able to rear up and devour your soul. At points though, you wish you had given those being of darkness free reign and let them take the soul from you, it's not like it was doing you any good anyway. Then you wouldn't have to think, just exist. Imagine not having to care about anything ever again. Nearly a pleasant thought, isn't it?

But then again, life isn't like that. There's always a catch, no matter how big or how small. You can never get exactly what you want just because you want to, and that's that. It's just the way it is. Try and change it. Just try, for you have nothing left to give in return, nothing of any worth or any value at all, so a conscious existence is still the only option…for now at any rate.

So you stay calm, and not very collected, but you're still quiet. Because you know if you panic or cry or even attempt to escape, you will never be able to leave this place again. Even if it's just pain out there and you always manage to get hurt, you find that sometimes, just sometimes, that it's better out there than it is in here.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Tell me you understand whom 'they' is happening to refer to in this chapter.

Please review.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: You can't honestly expect a person who laughs at the word "bubbles" to own Harry Potter, can you? …(snicker)…bubbles…

Disclaim her: It's all just water under the bridge.

Note: Out-of-character focusing on: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, go and find yourselves a nice place to hide.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not happen to claim ownership over the quote stated below.

A/N: To sin by silence when we should protest, makes cowards of us all.

Chapter 5: Confusion and thoughts

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I open my eyes some time later and find the room that I'm in is currently darkened profusely and I can't see basically anything. Out of instinct I reach for my glasses on the bedside table and come in contact with something blocking my way. I blink confusedly but the urge to panic and/or scream doesn't occur at all. I Accio my glasses wandlessly and settle them on my face. As my gaze refocuses I see black robes and black hair, which causes me to frown. Who in the hell is next to me?

I sit up from the position I was lying in on the bed and glance over the shoulder of the person who appears to be slumbering next to me. Weary ruby eyes open and meet my astonished emerald and I fall back in surprise. I'm in bed with the Dark Lord!

The said person sits up and his gaze falls on me while he brushes back his ebony hair with spider like fingers.

"Do you know what time it is, Potter? Go back to sleep, for Merlin's sake. It's two in the morning." He sighs out and lies himself back down as he turns on his side away from me. Still shocked, I stare at his back and watch his breathing slow as he falls back to sleep.

I'm still staring at his back and don't even realize that I've fallen asleep until I wake sometime later with my face buried into dark fabric. It takes a moment for this fact to register in my mind and I pull away from where I had been lying as if I've been burned. I had been lying against the Dark Lord's back for God's sake! For the love of-

Voldemort stirs from his position and turns back over to face me, ruby eyes wearier than before. "Potter, I thought I told you to go back to sleep. Stop waking me with your thoughts and control your emotions. I have to get up in two hours." He grounds out and turns back over away from me once again.

I gape in astonishment at the response he provides to any question I would have asked and he raises a hand without turning towards me and hits me softly upside the head. I scowl, as I know that he did that just to infuriate me. I only know this as I can feel the vague amusement floating to me from his side of our connection and he speaks once again.

"Go to sleep Potter. Stop thinking."

"Why am I sleeping next to you?" I ask, malice coloring my voice.

"I'm not moving out of my quarters just because you happen to be in here. I have in no way attempted to sexually harass you and/or take…_advantage_ of you."

I snort at how ironic those words happen to be. That's already happened to me so many times before I think I've lost count. I guess I'm basically an expert at this now. You made that happen after all, even though I do not know why I let this happen to me in the first place. Maybe it was because I just didn't know any better at the time to do anything about this. Hell, I didn't even know what the heck a pedophile or what child molestation was when I was eleven. I _suppose_ you showed my true worth to the world and I think I knew that back in the very recesses of my mind. I'm not really anything but a whore, am I now?

"Potter?" The Dark Lord sits up in his surprise and he turns to face me. Oh hell... Did I just let those thoughts flow over to Voldemort! "Potter, is that true?"

My gaze turns stony and I stare beyond the wizard before me and at the opposite wall as he grasps my chin in his hand. My gaze does not waver from where it is placed and I can feel his stare searching my eyes for some kind of hint of what I'm thinking.

"Potter?"

"What?" My voice betrays no emotion whatsoever.

"Is that true?"

"…It may be." I respond after a few moments of frantic thinking of how to take action in this situation.

"He actually-" He breaks off as he sees my gaze wander off toward something only I can see as once before.

Maybe I should tell him what you did and _how_ you did it. Maybe that will enlighten him as to why I am the way I am now. But you said…that if I ever told anyone about what you did to me, you'd make what you did seem like it was nothing and that you would deny all of what I said to begin with. No one is going to believe a crazy you said. So, with that in mind, should I tell him what you did…? …No…I don't think I will. It's not like that this is out of fear of what you will do to me since out can't seem do _anything _worthwhile anymore. You're becoming senile, it appears.

"Potter?" He lays a hand upon my shoulder and I don't find myself moving away. How…strange.

"What?" The hand on my shoulder I'm finding is a bit distracting.

"That old man raped you?"

Something snaps inside me as the words I've been thinking over and over for the past five years finally are spoken out loud. I blink and try to make the image of you hovering over me looking so damn _smug _disappear from my mind. The memories that I forced behind walls within my mind break through my defenses and make me start remembering things that I wish that I couldn't.

"Yes," I find myself whispering of my own accord while my mind is screaming at the memories of you and what you did and to make you stop. The memories of you telling me not to tell anyone about your fucking me and making me bleed so bad I could have died and making me unable to sit down properly for weeks at end. You raping me the night my godfather passed through the Veil and telling me that it was my entire fault. Telling me it was my fault that Cedric died that I was the one who really got him killed.

"Potter?" He asks in alarm as he sees me sit up with a blank look on my features. _Freak, _my mind whispers as I attempt to force those memories back. _Whore_, my mind shouts in utter outrage. Somehow, I know he's seeing this and it makes me confused as to why I know that I'm letting him. His hand on my shoulder burns into my skin with cold fire.

_Weak_, it yells again, _it was all your fault,_ my mind snarls close to my ear and I shake my head. No, it wasn't my fault! It wasn't me! Just when I think that I won't be able to take it any more, there is a sudden feeling…that seems like a calming per say smothering force that is being lain onto those memories and I find that I can't hear my screams within my mind anymore. Funny.

I blink. The burning on my shoulder has intensified and I can't find the will to move to remove the stinging sensation that makes me tremble.

"Potter?" The Dark Lord appears to be closer to me than he was before and I blink again. This isn't uncomfortable. It's…

"Hm?"

"Are you all right?"

"Why do you even ask, you don't care." I feel so sickened with myself when I realize he saw everything that I happened to see. My face burns in humiliation and I bury my face in my hands. No, I can't lose control like this! I can't show any kind of weakness.

"Harry?"

My eyes widen as he uses my first name. What-

"Harry, do you want me to leave?"

What odd thoughts pass through ones mind when they aren't thinking clearly, I reflect offhandedly. If I wasn't so out of it I think I would have said yes. But as things held, I respond with the exact opposite answer. "…No," I find myself whispering, almost to myself. "Don't go."

"Are you sure?" He asks, and if I had been in the right state of mind I believe that I might have noticed that he sounded concerned to some extent. But as it is, I don't.

"Yes." Somehow I feel relieved that he isn't asking me to explain anything to him at the moment. If he had, I don't know how I would have responded.

"Go to sleep."

"……..." I roll my eyes as I turn over facing away from him.

"Potter?" He murmurs softly.

"…What?" My voice is low and I have my back facing him so even though I can't see his ruby eyes focused on the back of my head I can feel it.

"Nothing." I can feel him shift as he lies down on the bed. We both face away from each other.

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I wake at some point later the only reason being is that I can feel movement from where I lay. I open my eyes and find my glasses still on. I guess it's lucky that I didn't crush them.

I sit up and find Voldemort rummaging through his wardrobe for some clothes as I can see that he has only a towel wrapped around his waist. From where I sit I can see that his skin is ridiculously pale and his hair is dripping water on the floor. Wait, back up. Since when did he have hair? Wasn't Voldemort bald?

"Harry, it's called a glamour." He remarks dryly.

I nearly fall off the bed in surprise as he responds to my thoughts. What the hell? He's doing it again!

"You don't make it very hard when your mind is wide open to the world."

"Stop it!"

He mutters something incoherently as he sinks deeper into his closet still looking for a set of robes.

"What did you say?" I say, my voice rising in pitch dramatically.

"I said," He pulls his head out of the wardrobe and locks his red eyes with my green ones. "You need to control your emotions."

"I do!"

"Well, you're not doing a very good job right now."

"Fuck you." I spit out in disgust.

"There's no need to lose your temper Harry." He says calmly as he submerges himself back into his closet.

"I'm not losing my temper!" I shout in anger. Why does he make me so damn mad? Even _you_ don't make me lose my temper this much! So why is it different with him!

"Really?" His voice is muffled slightly and I can feel amusement flickering in the edges of his mind. Wait, in _his_ mind? Why am I in his mind? As I ponder over this, he speaks again.

"Harry?"

"What?" I mutter distastefully.

"I'm going to be gone for the most of today."

"That's nice." The half thought of having something thrown at him comes across my mind but that slips away fairly quickly.

"I just thought I would tell you."

"Why?"

"Just…because."

"Stop speaking in riddles, _Tom_."

"If you think that you're going to get anywhere by using my Muggle name, you're mistaken."

The urge to smack him flits across my mind like a stray cloud passing by. Damn him to the hells! My emotions nearly slip out of my grasp as I glare at his back.

"Fine, I'll use that name then because the name Voldemort is just plain ridiculous." I snarl back in anger.

"As you wish, Harry." He replies serenely as he doesn't even look back at me.

He draws the towel off his waist and my eyes widen as I stare at his naked backside until he pulls on a pair of boxers and then a pair of robes over his body. I find myself unable to withdraw my eyes from where they had been as he turns back at me.

"It's not polite to stare, you know."

My attention snaps back to him although I can still see his naked body very clearly when I blink. I can feel myself reddening despite the effort I put in to trying to restrain myself. "It's not my fault I didn't have parents to teach me manners."

"Well met, Harry." He murmurs and he comes to the side of the bed that I'm at. He's close to me and I can't find the will to run away for some peculiar reason. "I'll be back later," he says to me in a voice that is barely above a whisper as he moves even closer to me. Why can't I move myself away?

He moves in even closer and I still haven't tried to shift away from him. Why the hell am I letting him do this? Is it because I can't sense any ill intent from him or is it because I knew this would happen and am just facing the inevitable?

He leans in and my lips part in surprise as he shuts his eyes and presses his lips against my forehead softly. What's been done hasn't exactly registered in my mind until I feel tranquility slip into my thoughts from his side of our link. Holy Mother of-

I push him away and his expression of anxiety that I catch at the very last moment turns into impassiveness. I know my face is the darkest shade of crimson imaginable and I turn my burning face away and shut my eyes. I'm shaking violently as I raise a hand and draw my glasses from my face. What in the hell just happened right now? My forehead burns as if it's on fire from where he kissed me and I realize with astonishment that he had kissed my scar.

When I finally decide to open my eyes, I find that the Dark Lord is gone.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Another chapter done, so could you please review?


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: People with imaginations own things. That obviously means I can't.

Disclaim her: In truth, death might be the only absolute freedom there is.

Note: Out of character occurring with: Harry, Lucius, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, please go away, it's for your own good you know.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Voldemort and Harry) **Parseltongue**

I do not claim any ownership rights to the quote below.

A/N: Life doesn't come with an instruction book.

Chapter 6: Touch

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I'm still lying in bed when the Dark Lord returns. My gaze has not strayed from the ceiling where it has lain for the past twelve hours. I think it's maybe five in the afternoon and I haven't eaten or drank anything. Where he kissed me still burns with a passion but I've found that I don't exactly mind much. See, I can't really mind when I've found that I want him to kiss me again, but this time on the lips.

I really am a hopeless whore, right Albus? Some things will never change, I suppose. At one sign of affection, I crumble. You always knew how to weave that into the scenarios that you played out time and time again over the years. I really am stupid for not doing anything about this, aren't I?

He doesn't even glance at me as he goes into the bathroom and I can hear him turn on the tap as water starts to run down the drain. Some of his thoughts stray over me and I know it isn't on purpose because I can feel exhaustion and something that seems to me like unease slide into my thoughts. The exhaustion becomes more pronounced as I hear him turn off the water and can hear what appears to be shifting water. He's bathing?

I blink and my eyesight clears as I sit up from my position on the bed. I quietly get up and walk silently into the bathroom.

The bathroom itself is lavishly decorated from what I can see and the colors are mainly green and silver. The Dark Lord is lying in an emerald marble bathtub that could nearly be classified as a small pool since it's so big. My eyes lock onto the Dark Lord whose head is resting against the edge with his eyes closed. His frame is obscured under the water and I mentally slap myself for even looking. _Stupid, you're a fucking whore, don't you dare look at him, even _he_ is not fit to be defiled by your tainted gaze_, my mind whispers.

"…Harry?" He says softly and the water ripples. I should have known that he would know that I was in here.

"What is it?" I find myself asking despite the resolve I have to not say anything.

"I'm sorry…for…kissing you."

"………"

"Are you still there?" He asks even though I know that he can sense my presence.

"Yeah," I mutter. Why the hell does he ask when he knows I'm still here?

"I ask because I want to hear you speak. You don't have to be so sullen, Harry."

"I'll be sullen if I want to. You will not tell me how to act or feel!" I respond in anger.

He says nothing and I find my temper growing. He opens his eyes halfway and I can see a vague, blurry ruby. "I went to see him today." He says after awhile of silence where the thoughts of hurting him are prominent within my mind.

"…Wha-?" My eyes widen and my thoughts are racing so fast in my head that I can't keep track of what I'm thinking.

"I went to see him," Voldemort repeats softly.

"Why-" It takes me a minute to force breath into my lungs. "Why would you do something like that?"

"I wanted to talk to him…about you and he tried to kill me."

"Tried?" I say numbly.

"The Avada Kedavra curse reflected off me."

"What are you talking about!" I gasp as my mind still stumbles over the fact that he went to see you and you tried to kill him and he came back alive.

"It hit me and didn't do anything."

"Are you insane!" I shriek.

"…A little, but that currently has no relevance at the moment. When the curse struck me it didn't do anything. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Since when?" I snarl.

"I've never lied to you. Never."

"You sending me those dreams _was_ a lie! Who the hell do you think you're dealing with you bastard!"

"It was not a lie in the end. Your godfather got hurt, even if it wasn't at my hands, did he not?"

"By that bitch of yours Bellatrix!" I yell and I see him shut his eyes once more. "And how the hell did an Avada Kedavra not kill you?"

"You helped." He replies calmly.

"WHAT!"

"Our bond that causes us to feel what the other is feeling and to hear the other's thoughts somehow also protects us both from harm, to put it bluntly."

"I fucking hate you!" I roar and quickly walk over to him planning to cause some damage through whatever way that is possible. I raise my hand when I reach his side fully intending to strike him but he catches my wrist with a flash that I hadn't even seen coming. He opens his eyes and locks his ruby with my emerald.

"There is no need to get violent. But if you wish to hit me, go on ahead if it makes you feel any better." He continues to maintain eye contact with me, much to my displeasure. Why does he look so certain of what I'll do?

I pant as he releases my wrist and I raise my hand again, intending to finish what I had started. He continues to just look at me and I can feel my hand beginning to tremble. Damn it, why can't I hit him? He still gazes at me but I can't feel anything from his side of our link. What is this?

"I had thought you were going to strike me Harry. What are you waiting for?"

My mouth opens but no words come forth to my tongue. I…

"Well?"

"………" As I walk out of the room I can feel his gaze boring a hole into my back.

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I think I'm on the roof of his Manor but one can't be quite sure nowadays with my screwed up fragments of what used to be a legitimate mind. I'm also not really sure how I got up here to begin with. I think I Apparated up here but…I really don't know. What I do know is that the Dark Lord couldn't possibly care where I am right now and is probably still in his bath.

I'm incredibly angry at the moment so I couldn't care less about what he's doing. Why in the hell couldn't I hit him? I really wanted to and he even gave me free reign but I couldn't! What is wrong with me! I bury my face in my hands while a small voice in my head tells me I could just end my miserable existence right this second by jumping off this stupid tower.

I haven't had these kinds of thoughts in a long while so it's no surprise I actually listen to it and don't shove it away like I have all the others. I've tried suicide a number of times but somehow have managed to not die. But I certainly had lost enough blood to so that caused an endless amount of confusion for me for a couple days while I hid from the Order and cast a replica of me sleeping in my room at Grimmauld place. Stupid fools, they should have noticed their savior wasn't actually there and was really hiding in his godfather's empty rooms. They believe what they see, and that's what will bring them down eventually... You know something, I'm not sure if I was hiding from you Albus, because I don't really remember much of what I do when I cut.

As I sink my face into my knees and wrap my arms around my knees and I feel sudden alarm and worry seep through me. He's finally found that I'm not there anymore? The feelings of worry are the only thing that causes confusion to form within me. Why would he be worried? He shouldn't care about whatever happens to me.

The wind blows softly causing a cold draft to seep into my bones that I don't really mind because my limbs are already numb as is. I believe I've been watching the sun set into the forest that surrounds the Manor for a point now and it has been turning the clouds and sky a lovely shade of pink and orange that causes me to feel slightly melancholy for reasons I can't name.

"It is nice, isn't it Harry?"

I nearly fall off the roof at the voice at my back. Holy Mother of-

"You didn't need to go and make him panic like you did. He has all of his House Elves searching for you at the moment."

"How did you find me Lucius?" I ask while I have half a mind to feel angry with him for finding me and somewhat grateful at the same time.

"I knew you wouldn't leave and go back to the Order so I figured you probably just went outside to get away from him."

"Why did you even look for me anyway?" I ask my voice devoid of emotion.

Lucius sits down beside me and brushes back some of his hair over his shoulder. "I looked for you because you were causing him distress. He doesn't want you to go back to them." He says casually.

"I don't plan to." I murmur and he glances at me out of the corner of his eye without turning his head. He slips an arm around my waist and I lean my head against his shoulder. "Your wife-"

"-Is in my home being fucked by some man because I am never there. The bitch thinks I have no idea about what she's doing." He says viciously.

"I figured that out the moment I saw her at the Quidditch World Cup in fourth year." I reply as he cards a hand through my hair gently. My eyes slide shut halfway and my next words are slightly slurred. "What ever happened to that son of yours? Have you gotten anywhere with him now?" My limbs are still numb and his hand slides across my cheek caressingly.

"Harry…"

"You really shouldn't distance yourself from him so much. I know how much he loves you. Why won't you return his affections?"

"He doesn't love me that way. He only loves me like a son is _supposed_ to love his father. The way I love him…it's…revolting. I should be thrown in Azkaban."

"It's not wrong until our minds condemn it to be so." I respond in a slight stupor and my mind slowly makes the connection that something is not quite right here. "Lucius…please don't cast any spells on me…"

"I'm sorry Harry, but I know you wouldn't have come willingly if I had asked."

"Don't do this…I don't want to go back to him, he makes me feel strange…" I whisper with my words almost making no sense to my mind. "I don't like the way…he makes me feel…it's…wrong…"

"Shh…I'm sorry Harry."

The last thing I see before my vision fades to black is the setting sun sparkling in my eyes.

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I could feel fingers brushing over my cheeks, murmured nothings being whispered in my ears that for once wasn't my mind yelling at itself, my forehead burning as if it was on fire…and could vaguely distinguish ruby eyes floating in mid-air and staring at me without contempt.

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The first thing I can recognize when I wake is the pain that is warping into my bones and limbs. It makes me want to scream in utter agony but my voice is nowhere to be found. I don't have the energy to open my eyes but a piece of me can sense the Dark Lord's presence in the room so I know he is close by. That fact makes me calm my raging mind and attempt to send my feelings to him. I know he has received them and that he knows that I'm awake because I can feel the weight of where I'm laying shift.

"You're awake." He states softly and I can feel cool fingers brush over my scar and I whimper in the way it sends shivers down my spine.

"Are you alright?"

I can't speak but I try to convey my thoughts to him as best as I can.

_I can't speak, damn it! Tell me you can at least tell how I'm feeling!_

"Why can't you speak?" he says while his hand rests on my scar and I can feel the cold from his flesh seep into me. My body relaxes almost immediately after that.

_I don't know why… I can't speak… I don't even know why… I can't open my eyes._

"You have a very high fever Harry, that's why I don't think you have the energy to open your eyes. You also have two broken ribs, which I think caused your breathing problems and that I could easily see sticking out through your skin. You're so thin…Have you been eating properly?"

…_No._ I whisper in the depths of my mind.

"When did you last eat?"

…_I think…it was last…week… _I say slowly.

"Good God! Harry, what the hell have you been doing to yourself?"

_I don't know…_

"Why do you have broken ribs anyway?" He says rather sharply.

…_From…Dumbledore… _I respond, trying to make my voice as inaudible as possible in my shame. Had I been of good health, I wouldn't have said anything about what you did to me to him. _…I also think that he gave me a fractured ankle…_

"I'm going to kill that man with my bare hands." I hear him mutter with restrained anger as I then hear him cast a healing spell on my chest and then on my ankle. The stabbing weight that has threatened my breathing for the past month and a half is finally gone along with the searing pain in my ankle that was caused when you threw me against the wall of your office a few weeks before school let out.

…_Thank…you. _As I say these words I can feel happiness leak into my thoughts no matter how he tries to conceal it. He's happy that I'm better?

The hand that had rested on my forehead returns and I make a sound of contentment in my throat. His hand moves across my face, brushing over my eyes, my cheeks, and my lips and at the same time stroking my hair.

Somehow, I don't know how, but I know he'll never do what you did.

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A.O.T.I.F.:…

Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't think I see the ownership papers of Harry Potter lying around anywhere, do you?

Disclaim her: The punishment for treason is death.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, go away, I don't want to ruin your childhood.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts _and/or _mind speech _ (Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I don't own the quote below.

A/N: Others can stop you temporarily, but only you can do it permanently.

Chapter 7: Coordination display

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It's been a couple weeks now and I've discovered that I like it at his Manor, for I've found that if you don't really want people to talk to you, they won't. And that makes me glad, because I like the silence and desolation his Manor provides me. It reminds me of death…when it's so quiet you want to scream. That only happens when he's away, but I don't tell him those kinds of things. I didn't want to make him paranoid again as I had just gotten rid of my knives and he was happy with that so he didn't worry about me as much as he was before, even though I told him there was nothing to worry about in the first place. Although, now that I think about it…I still have a couple knives left. Hm, maybe it won't be so bad after all.

Voldemort hasn't tried to make any more advances on me, if that's what you could call them. He plays with my hair when we're alone in his chambers sometimes and I don't particularly care as it relaxes me, but that's about as far I am willing to go. He knows that I don't feel comfortable half the time even showering with him in the next room for reasons that I will not give him. I…can't tell him when I still haven't come to terms with what happened in…_there_. It still causes me to shake in fear at what you did at points. He doesn't know about that…either.

At points I start to think he knows about a lot more things than he lets on with the way he happens to hint at things, but it's nothing more than that. Its just hints that make me a little bothered and I hate the fact that he can get me so flustered over it. Damn him.

I asked him after a couple of days of wondering on how he actually got a normal body and facial features. He still said that it was a Glamour and that he had had this kind of frame all along but I still don't believe him. I know he took some kind of potion. Liar.

I'm laying against his chest right now as he strokes my hair fondly just as he usually does when he comes back from wherever it is he goes for days at end. I've been toying with the idea of following him lately to see what he's been doing, but I haven't recovered all of my strength from my fever as of late. I'm tired out of my mind and I think he knows that as he makes to move me onto the bed to lay me down. A pathetic attempt at a protest makes its way to my lips as he sets me down.

I don't know why, but the fact that when he comes back to the Manor and he immediately comes to see _me_ makes me smile at the absurdity. He shouldn't care as much as he does, if it's really care he's "feeling" for me. It's not worth it.

"Why isn't it?"

"Hm?" I murmur lazily as I slit my eyes.

"Why do you think that you're not worth my time?"

"Because I'm just a filthy whore." I reply unabashedly.

"Just because he took advantage of you-"

"You don't know the half of what he did, Tom."

"I know more than you think I do."

I place a rather bitter smile upon my features as I pull my glasses off the bridge of my nose and set them on the nightstand next to me. It's better when my gaze can be unfocused as it is now because then I don't have to see the pity in his ruby eyes.

"What exactly do you _think_ you know?" I ask softly.

"That he raped you."

I make a reprimanding sound in my throat that catches his attention immediately. "Uh-uh. It's not rape when it's consensual."

"You consented with him?" The Dark Lord exclaims in astonishment that he can't conceal.

"Not exactly. I think what he did is called…what's the word…oh I remember now, manipulation. I believe you are familiar with the term, yes?" I reply with a vicious edge to my voice making it sound unfamiliar to my ears.

"Don't turn this on me."

"Oh, I'm not turning this on you, since you really have no part in this. Or, on second thought, maybe you do. I haven't really looked into your role in this, so if you have anything to say, I suggest you say something before I fly into a rage later on." I remark sharply. I can feel my eye twitch and I snicker to myself.

"Harry…" He warns in a low voice.

"No, you _think_ you know what he did. But that's not quite the same as _knowing_ what he did or_ feeling _what he did or even _remembering_ what he did every time you wake up. So I don't think you comprehend this situation fully. You want me to tell you?" There is a pause where my vision swims with ruby. Oh, I've gotten him riled, have I? Excellent.

"Hey, it's your mind you'll be defiling." A tiny, still sane voice in my mind told me to flee before this got dangerous, but it is quashed by the more reckless part that takes the risks and never looks back at the mistakes. Well…most of the mistakes.

"I think it started in first year, to be honest." I admit, as I tap my chin with a finger thoughtfully. "I think it really happened because I didn't know a lot about the wizarding world and I didn't know the customs that said that this was wrong."

"You were eleven."

"Case and point, Tom." I hear myself answering back as an image of myself slashing my wrist earlier that day came to mind. How strange…when did that happen?

"You couldn't have been that dimwitted Potter."

"I'm not now, but then…I truly was stupid." I respond with a touch of something that I can't quite recognize filtering into my voice. He says nothing to that and I smirk. He's such a liar at times that it reminds me of myself a little bit. "The first time, I remember hurt me worse than my how my scar burns and I bled all over his desk. As I think back to it, it was a little funny, to say the least. He got all flustered about his paperwork and I got anxious that he was going to punish me. Remember though, that I thought very highly of him at the time." I assure him as his temper flares. Just who is he mad at here? You or me? "He didn't apologize to me about hurting me, all he did was mutter a spell to clean up his desk and then told me that I was dismissed. I bled all the way out of there but no one saw me wandering through the halls, so it was okay. I think I lost about a pint of blood, more or less." As I continue on, the odd feeling of him embracing me comes to my thoughts but I shove it away. I will not have unclean thoughts about the Dark Lord for Merlin's sake!

"You want me to hug you?"

"NO!" I exclaim. Damn it, damn it, and damn it some more! How the heck is he moving around in my thoughts?

"I will, if you want."

"But I don't want to!" My voice rises in pitch dramatically.

"As you wish, Harry." He replies with no emotion embedded into his voice.

"You don't understand!"

"Really?"

"Really!" I cringe at my own words. Why do I have to sound so pathetic and like a typical teenager, for goodness sake?"

"Because you _are_ a teenager Harry. It's what you're supposed to do."

"No, what I was supposed to do was live a normal life but with you always screwing it up and making my mother die for me made me the freaking _SAVIOR_ of the wizarding world I don't think that was exactly possible, was it? I can't save myself, so how could I possibly be able to save anyone else? I didn't choose this, I didn't want this, but you _caused_ this so don't you tell me how to act when you _don't_ care, don't understand and never will."

"Having pity for yourself isn't going to get you anywhere with me, Harry."

"Who said I was planning on getting anywhere with you?"

"And you're also not going to get anywhere with that kind of attitude either."

"Shut UP!" I scream as my anger manages to reach boiling point.

"Don't raise your voice to me."

"I will do what I want! You're not going try to control me like he did! Don't you dare pull that superiority complex out on me or I'll do things to you that are worse than the Cruciatus!"

"You and what army Harry?"

The nearest thing next to me is hurled into where I suppose he is residing, as my glasses are snatched up from the bedside table. My glasses barely miss his skull and the lamp beside the glasses is thrown as well. It lands with a resounding crash somewhere farther off in the room as I feel his weight in the bed leave.

"Don't you walk away from me!"

"I'll do as I please Harry. You are the same as all the rest of the wizards, so stop making it seem like I should treat you any differently."

"You are though. You're treating me like a normal human being when I should be treated like the whore that I am!"

"Will you stop with that!"

"I'm only saying it because it's true." I murmur more to myself than to him. My temper calms itself slowly as his anger seems to grow.

"Stop it!" My vision clears somehow of it's own accord and I blink to find myself watching a memory of third year when I was talking to Lupin. That man had far less gray hairs then than he does now. He tried to stop my self-mutilation and abnormal behavior of torturing students in the hallways with curses that were just barely legal.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

My trance breaks as I look at the man before me with my glassy green chips of what were once bright and carefree emerald eyes. What is it about him that causes me to lose my edge of emotionless speech and causes me to react more than I have thought possible over the course of fifth year? It's not right, these things that he does to me when I'm not paying attention. He makes me feel strange inside, something that I haven't experienced before now. It's sickening.

"Harry, stop that, please, you're going to break skin."

I glance down to where his gaze is aimed and see my fingernails digging into my opposite arm with a vengeance. It's funny, since I don't appear to feel the pain that is usually connected to this action. How unusual.

"Stop it." He orders again and I feel the exact moment my nails break skin and unveil the crimson that lets me live. The warmth that is my blood trickles down my wrist and I smile in a miserable sort of way.

I am about to see how far my nails can dig into my wrist, but he snatches my arm in one swift movement and I don't protest. There isn't any heart to do so, as is. He's gently sliding his fingers over the spot where I bleed mercilessly and it heals in a blink of an eye. He intertwines our fingers, my smaller, tanned fingers almost engulfed by his larger, paler, more spider-like ones. I let out a sigh of half frustration, half contentment as he always manages to make me forget the things that I was angry at moments before as he also causes me to relax at the same time. I hate him.

Even though the thought to shove him away occurs to my fogged senses, I don't. He's giving me an odd sort of sensation that I can't explain again, just like he always does. It makes me irritated to some extent, but I find that I'm actually more distracted by his hand tracing lazy patterns into my palm. It's…making me severely aware that he and I have contact with our fingers. It sends a burst of shivers down my spine.

"Are you cold?"

He knows I'm not cold. Why does he ask for Merlin's sake?

"Hm…You're a bit warm though…" As he places his other hand on my forehead, barely beneath my scar, I shut my eyes. "Is your fever back by some chance?" He says as I find myself leaning into his body. I'm still so tired…what is this feeling that I am experiencing in my body that is increasing the longer the Dark Lord maintains contact with me?

It's different from the ones Voldemort is giving me right now. It makes me want to shed my skin, to keep removing my outer flesh until it comes off and forms a new, better skin. And it will be green, and green, and green…the shade of green will put my eyes to shame. I know of this and I am unable to explain it.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

I hadn't realized that I had moved away from his frame and am currently curled up into a fetal position. This is getting strange. Why can't I remember moving to where I am right now? I don't…understand this...

He settles my glasses that he somehow retrieved on my face and the contact is cold but warm at the same time as he lets his touch linger on me. I focus my eyes onto my arm and it looks as if it _is _turning green. I blink, but the color is still there and rapidly deepening. I quickly turn my gaze onto him in question but he looks as surprised/ horrified as I feel. What is this! I can distantly hear the voices in my mind telling me to relax, because this is going to hurt, but I don't comprehend the words.

My skin continues to turn an emerald green and I feel myself beginning to feel slightly lightheaded. The feelings that my body is experiencing aren't very bad until all there is is pain that goes on and on in an endless circle that makes me feel like my insides are being ripped from me. I have a vague notion that I'm screaming and screaming until my throat is hoarse but all I can concentrate on is the pain. I try to distance myself like I taught myself to do when you raped me but I can't as it breaks through all my barriers. All there is is hurt and I don't exactly recall myself passing from awareness until I find my name being called urgently.

**Harry!**

I blink open my eyes and I find that my vision had changed. It's in an assortment of colors. Really, this is strange. I raise my head with an effort and see Voldemort crouched down by my head.

**Harry, are you all right? Answer me, please!**

I shut my eyes and respond. **Fine, Tom. I'm fine. **

**Are you sure that you're okay?**

**I'm fine. **I lift my head and find that I can't feel my arms so I look down. I shriek in surprise but all that comes forth is hiss. I'm a snake!

**You're actually a Basilisk. **The Dark Lord says softly in Parseltongue.

**But I don't have an Animagus form. I've tried to transform but I never got anywhere. It always hurt so I stopped trying. **My tongue flickers out and I can taste the scent that is the Dark Lord. It's…not bad. The part of me that is reptilian wants to curl up beside the Snake King and submit to anything that he may desire but the part of me that is human stomps those emotions flat in sickening disgust. I will not have unreasonable thoughts about Voldemort!

He blinks as he looks at me in slight curiosity and brushes his fingers over the side of my jaw. This is getting creepy. Why can't I move away?

I close my piercing eyes that don't seem to have any effect on him. Now _that's_ a pity. I had thought for once to have the upper hand, but no, there always has to be a side effect to whatever advantage that I may acquire.

But then again…the fact that I happen to be a snake at the moment presents some interesting upsides. I probably could rip his arm off right now and maybe his head. Oh, now _that _would be fun!

**I'd rather you didn't _try_ to kill me, as it will get you nowhere Harry. **

**How would you know, you bastard? ** I hiss in anger.

**It doesn't matter. **He replies and I rear up to half my over thirty-foot height as my temper flares dangerously. How tall is this room anyways?

**Like hell it doesn't Tom! **

**I thought I told you that you shouldn't lose your temper.**

**I thought I told you to go to hell!**

**I don't remember that Harry. Perhaps you were thinking it?**

**Fuck you! **I dive in as I attempt to make a strike at him but he steps aside so quickly, it makes me look _really_ stupid as I slide about twenty feet and hit the opposite wall. Since when did the furniture get removed?

**Maybe you should think about practicing that aim you have. It could use some improvement, as could your wandwork. **He remarks absently.

**Stop trying to provoke me!**

**This wouldn't be happening if you had some control over your emotions and didn't get riled over everything I said and did to you.**

**I do have control over my emotions! It's just with you- **I break off suddenly and if I had hands, would have clamped them over my mouth.

**Yes? **He inquires, urging me to continue on.

**I hate you! **I respond instead.

**I know you do. **He sighs almost dejectedly to himself as he walks to the door. Yeah, sure. **You can come out of here when you've calmed down.**

**Where are you going! You can't leave me like this! I don't know how to change back to my human form. **I hiss in absolute anger that might have blown the windows off every room in the Manor had he not cast a barrier at the last moment. Damn him to wherever causes him everlasting pain.

**I'm sure you can do it on your own, since you say me that you don't need my help.**

**I'm sure I can! Leave for all I care, I don't need you! I'll figure out a way to change myself back.**

**You need me more than you think, Harry. **And with those last words, he walks out of the door, murmuring a complex locking charm as he goes.

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A.O.T.I.F.:Thanks reviewers for chapter six, you made my day.

Please review.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: (waves to imaginary friends) Do you really think I need to state why I don't own Harry Potter?

Disclaim her: Ultimate Super Madison Square Garden Shot!

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children go back to your mommies.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts _and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

Comments will be listed at the end of the chapter.

I don't own the quote stated below.

A/N: No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.

Chapter 8: Submission

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I'm lying on the floor exhausted a few hours later in my _human_ form. Why did that have to take so much energy for Merlin's sake? But still, I managed to make it back into my human form so what can he say now?

My breath is coming in shallow gasps as I find that I don't even have the energy to move any of my limbs. I'm so tired…so, so tired…

I register somewhere in my consciousness footsteps echoing on the wooden floor but I make no move to show that I'm still alive. My eyes are half open and even if I had had my glasses, my vision would have spun like one of those Muggle merry-go-rounds. My body is cold, cold and cold and my scar burns, burns and burns. As the footsteps come closer, a vague thought of saying something to whoever it is is thrown away into the garbage heap that has become all my rational thoughts. There wasn't any use for them anyways. All they did was cause me to get into trouble over the years.

There's a white-gloved hand on my cheek, the soft fabric making me think of…

The hand moves to my hair and brushes back my unruly bangs making me want to swat the hand away, but I can't find the strength to again. I'm being lifted up and my body is being cradled in strong arms. That idiot…why does he focus his efforts on everyone _but_ his son?

"Go away Lucius…" My words are slurred, making me sound intoxicated. How do I even have the power to speak?

"I won't Harry. Why are you in here?"

"Tom said I needed to calm down before I came out." I mutter.

"Then why are you on the floor?"

"No reason," I reply with a crooked smile. Spin world, spin for Harry Potter. Yes, just like that. That's wonderful.

"There's always a reason."

"Not for everything, Lucius." My smile fractures and I lean into his robes. He gives no protest to this action.

"He cares Harry."

"No, he doesn't." I retort bitterly. "He's a liar." My voice can't seem to raise itself and all I feel is slightly annoyed about that. I shut my half open eyes as the light is burning my irises.

I'm aware of the fact that Lucius is carrying me down the hallway but I'm too much in a stupor to realize where he is heading. I'm…tired…

Lucius hoists me up onto his shoulder as he knocks on a door. I can feel the blood rushing into my skull as he readjusts me into his arms so I am being carried bridal style once more. Damn him, I wanted to pass out. Of all the-

"Come in."

Lucius walks with me in his arms into the room and I immediately feel surprise and then horror enter my thoughts. I know he doesn't care, so why does he keep trying to make it appear like he does? I want to hit something, _hard_.

"Lucius-what are you-?" The Dark Lord starts brokenly.

"He was passed out on the floor in what _was_ your chambers, My Lord. I carried him here." Leave it to Lucius to bring me to the Dark Lord's office.

"…And he didn't even try to kill me. Isn't he a lovely servant, Tom?" I interrupt as I feel the Dark Lord's temper increasing. I know Lucius isn't mad at me for being rude to him; it's just the way it is.

"Harry, you were told to stay in that room until you calmed down."

"I am calm. Isn't that apparent?" Thoughts of drawing out a wand and playing a miraculous duel that I will win floats through my mind. Screw me being tired. If he wants to fight again, I'll draw upon my reserves of energy. He is not going to boss me around as if I were a child. My emerald eyes are focused on the wrist that lays cradled in my lap as Lucius continues to hold me in his arms. Why does he have to be in the middle of this? I absolutely _despise_ showing mercy but I don't want him becoming injured just because the Dark Lord and I have issues.

"Put me down Lucius."

"Harry, you'll fall-"

"Down, please." I ground out. I really hate it when I have to act like this. It's unbecoming and makes me unhappier than I ever could be.

He sets me down without another word and walks from the room, closing the door behind him. Voldemort is about to call him back but I catch that swiftly.

"Leave him alone. It's me you want to deal with." I sway on my feet and wish that there could maybe be a wall to lean on. Maybe I didn't have as much energy as I had previously had thought. It's a pity, because had I been up to par; I could have taken him down by now. Damn this to the hells! I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!

"I know you hate me."

"You don't know how much."

"I have a pretty good idea of how much. So you figured out how to transform back without breaking any laws? Congratulations."

"Shut up." I mutter distastefully.

"What was that?" He inquires lightly, almost as if we're discussing the weather.

"I said, SHUT UP!"

"You know, that wasn't very nice." He says softly.

"You think I care!" I yell. "I don't give a damn about how you feel about what I do since what I _do_ has absolutely no relevance to you!"

"You truly believe that?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're such a fucking liar as is!" I scream, my emotions making the windows in the room rattle dangerously. As rational thoughts drown in my never ending sea of anger, it's rather pleasing when I acquire some really _dangerous _irrational ones that I finally am able to block from him as I regain composure. Now this, is going to make me _happy_. The voices in my head are applauding me for my excellence and I would have bowed at any other time. But as it is, I can't bow to imaginary things when people are watching. It causes some rather…pressing questions.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" I reply with a wide smile plastered upon my usually stoic features. It isn't good for the people to see what lies beneath the mask. It makes them frightened and they try to sedate you in fear of what is to come. "What is it?" My voice is delightfully calm to my ears and I smirk inwardly. He wants to play? Oh, I'll _play_. It's time for the fun and games to begin. He is not going to get the best of me again. I won't stand for it.

"Are you all right?"

His words make my smile widen dramatically. With a thought I teleport behind him and wrap my arms around his waist. His stiffens and tries to turn to look at me and I giggle softly and teleport myself to his desk, swinging my legs and hitting the wood with a thump each time my legs swing back. His eyes widen.

He can't be serious, he's nervous I might actually hurt him? For the love of-

"Why are you scared of me?"

"I'm not. You just need help."

He did not just say that. My hand nearly forms into a fist but my smile remains intact thankfully. I teleport myself again, this time I'm by his side. He nearly jumps in surprise. Hey, what's the point of being unpredictable when you can't cause terror?

"Harry, please, stop this." He almost pleads.

"Why should I? What should you care if I do these things, cut myself and starve my body?"

"Because I care!"

"No," I say, as I teleport myself to the front of him, "You don't. Don't try to win my trust like that when I don't think I have any left to give. There's a limit to how many times it can be shattered in your life. I believe I've reached mine."

"Harry," He protests as he attempts to reach out for me, but I draw away from the reach of his arms.

"No, just-just stop. I don't want to hear your lies anymore." His lies make me feel wretched, because it shows me that he's…just like the others.

A nagging voice in the back of my mind tells me that I probably knew about this all along but didn't really want to face it in the end. And in the end, we're all the same. We're all liars and cheaters and racists against ourselves; color in no way matters. And if we were sent against our true darker halves, we would lose, because the light will in no way beat the dark. The darkness consumes all, and we are all. So we were never really good to begin with, right?

Which proves that I, Harry Potter, could not be the "Savior" because I, Harry Potter, was too messed up to begin with. And we're all in too much of a stupor to do anything about the screwed up boy whose scar supposedly "hurts" because we don't care about him. All we cared for was he leading us to victory while he was wounded and broken much beyond any normal means of repair. And then we wondered why I, Harry Potter, broke away from the ranks and stumbled over to the Dark.

…I've tried, at some points, when I start to believe that I'm finally all right, to break away from the chains that bound me to you emotionally. But I never really succeeded as you still haunt me when it's deathly silent in my mind and I _swear_ I can hear your voice whispering in my ears, telling me to not tell anyone and that this was completely my fault to begin with, that I caused this misfortune to rain upon and thoroughly damage an already broken boy. And when it's so quiet that even protests do not even form on my lips, I start to actually believe the things that are murmured for only me to hear.

I really am walking the drunken path to insanity, aren't I now?

I start to believe at points that I'm giving myself self-pity, but what is there to really feel sorry for? What is left to care for? They've ruined more than I thought was there to be destroyed so what can be left? They took me apart, piece by piece and examined what was underneath the "Golden Boy" but were somehow unable to dig as deep as removing the mask. If they had, I don't know what I would have done.

I wished, when I was too far stuck in depression's quicksand during the summer of fourth year and the term of fifth year, that the Dementors could have gently sifted through what had remained and pulled out my soul so I wouldn't have to feel. But…I had to be stupid at the time and learn ways to defend myself and ward off the Dementors in third year, didn't I? If I could have known what would have happened later on, I wouldn't have tried to survive. I was so stupid.

The Dark Lord is looking at me with concern and that causes something within me to snap. He does not care!

"But I do." He says.

I just wave him off distractedly and slam my fist into the opposite wall in a fury that causes a crimson fist shaped crater to form as I break flesh to the air. Interesting. I need to remember this for later.

Blood pours down my wrist and I chuckle to myself wryly. It doesn't hurt. I can't feel the rock embedded into my hand but it feels like the blood going down my arm is actually just water. Really, this is quite amusing.

I flick off one of the rock fragments in indifference and hit the wall again, but this time I give the wall a kick with my foot and I hear a satisfying crack in both my bone and the stone. _Nice_. That causes needles of pain to pierce my shin and fracture it. I run a hand down my leg as my hand glows a slight blue and the leg mends. If you're going to hurt yourself, you might as well be able to heal yourself.

My fist is still bloody as I smash my broken knuckles into the wall yet again, somehow hoping that I could feel some kind of pain. It's a pity actually. I kind of wanted to feel a broken set of bones in my hand. I haven't felt that from all the things that I _have_ experienced. I wanted to see what it felt like. I'm about to crash my hand once again but he grabs my wrist in the blink of an eye.

"Let me go, Tom."

"Stop this! What are you doing to yourself?"

"Nothing particularly destructive, I suppose. Why? Do you have a problem with me?"

"With what you're doing, yes. With you, no."

"Stop fucking lying through your teeth." I ground out in frustration.

"I'm really not lying to you. What could I do that would make you believe me?"

I know my expression is one of utter surprise and I have to fight from hitting something and breaking another body part. I feel a strange sensation coming into my hand it takes me a moment that it's a sharp pain coursing through my shattered knuckles. I nearly cry out as the pain intensifies. But then, I make the connection. Why is it, whenever I make contact with him, I can _feel_?

I murmur a wandless spell to heal my shattered hand, as I know I can do a repeat of this later on when I am able to find a way to make myself experience more pain than I am now.

"Why is it," I begin with a touch of irritation playing it's way into my voice, "That you can make me so mad at you when you haven't done anything to me to begin with?"

He blinks his eyes and all the features on his face respond. The face he has now with the Glamour is much more humane than I'd like to admit. He has still retained his ruby red eyes that are snake-like slits but he actually has a nose and lips that fit him quite naturally as I take some time to think about it. No, why am I thinking about that! I slam my head against a wall in my mind. This is not right!

"Why are you asking me, when you don't need my help?" He says with a sneer.

I smile a little, as I think I should have seen that coming.

"I'm being patient here. Why do you think that I respond to you?"

"You don't have as much patience as you seem to think you have, Harry." He says softly, as he turns away from me and returns to his desk.

I know he wants me to blow up at him with this remark, but I find myself doing just the opposite. I conjure up an armchair out of mid air with a thought and settle myself in it in the front of his desk. He raises a perfect ebony eyebrow at this but says nothing.

"So you're going to stay, Harry?" His eyes are on the reports that litter his desk, but I know he isn't reading them.

"If you've no objections…?"

"I don't particularly mind, but I'd rather you didn't throw anything at me, is that clear?"

"Only if you don't aggravate me." I say, as I idly pick at one of my fingernails.

"Only you would know what aggravates yourself."

"Bastard." I mutter to myself.

"I heard that."

"I know you did." I reply as I turn my gaze to him and find that he's staring at me with an intensity that I haven't ever seen before now. I look away first and I can feel his smile rather than see it. The way he looked at me and the way I felt with his eyes on me and only on me…I …

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Don't dig around in my thoughts." I say with a scowl, my cheeks tinting a light pink as my thoughts about him had gone way off base and made me think of things that were…I'd use the word inappropriate, but that's a lie since they were _far_ worse than that. I can't believe I'm having freaking perverted thoughts about the Dark Lord!

"Oh, were you now?"

I must look like a gaping fish as my mouth is just about hanging open. Oh Merlin, what did he see!

"You needn't try to burn your face off as it won't work," He says as he looks up again at me. Why won't the ground swallow me up?

"I…" I can feel my facing burning with the light to light up the sun.

"I've rendered you speechless? Well, I guess I'm winning at this game we've been playing."

"Game?" I return in confusion.

"Oh yes, a game. You see, it goes like this. I'm waiting to see how long it will take for you to actually try to kill me like the old man who tries to hide in his castle, pretending that I don't exist, wants you to. For if you kill me, I lose. If I manage to gain your trust, then I win."

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A.O.T.I.F.: Since people have been reviewing, another chapter is deserved. I should be studying for my upcoming exams, but I wanted to finish this because the last chapter was a little of a cliffhanger.

It makes me happy to get some feedback on this junk that doesn't even deserve to be on the net…

Please review.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: (Gets wrapped into a straightjacket) You see why I can't own Harry Potter?

Disclaim her: I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away. I mustn't run away!

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…(I suppose Dumbledore must be counted as well…? Darn it.)

Rating: M for Mature. Shoo! Go away children. There's nothing for you to see here.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I lay no claim on the quote below.

A/N: The wise know their limitations; only fools think they know everything.

Chapter 9: Recollection

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I should have known he'd only think of this as a game. All he cares for is himself, so he couldn't care for me. I was right all along. It figures as much.

"Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself? It's getting old, really fast."

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself."

"Then what do you call what you're doing right now?" He says as he starts making notes on one of the papers on his desk.

"Being honest."

"I'm sure you are." He says, as he doesn't even meet my gaze. His thoughts aren't even focused on me. "Let's say I believe you. If you were being honest then why do you keep repeating the fact that you're a whore, that in which you aren't by the way? I am not going to feel sorry for you, you have enough self- pity for yourself as is. And if you even _want_ me to care, start acting like an adult, not like an angst ridden thirteen year old. You're sixteen, for God's sake!" He says with more than a touch of irritation.

Now what could possibly make him this angry?

"You are, Harry. And I'm not surprised. We happen to bring out the worst in each other."

"Should I be scared?" I spit out scathingly.

"How you feel is not my decision to make. You're independent and are old enough to decide for yourself." He replies while his eyes continue to remain on the paper before him.

"What are you reading?" I inquire lightly while my fingers trace a thin scar on the inner part of my forearm. I can't quite remember when I happened to get this particular disfigurement on my body, but I don't care. I can't remember a lot of things that I know I should. I'm corrupted on the inside and outside.

"Aren't we all?"

"Yes." I reply in a soft voice. I don't even remark about him in my mind. I tug my glasses off my face in annoyance and rub the bridge of my nose. My bangs fall into the front of my eyes as I bend over. What a crappy time to get a headache.

"I'm reading a report on one of our raids. Do you want to see how it went?" He asks hesitantly.

"Not right now." I answer as I lean back in the armchair. Why can't I seem to stop the utter pounding of my skull? I can hear a chair being pushed back and footsteps approaching my side.

"You can go to sleep if you like." He states as he runs his slender fingers through my hair. My hand holding my glasses falls from where it had been on the armrest to my lap. I can feel myself giving in to this horribly imploring touch and I cover his hand with mine as he cups my face with his hand. It takes a spilt second of recognition of what I've done to register in my mind and my eyes snap open and I slap his hand away from me as if I'd been burned. His hand falls to his side with no comment. What the hell is wrong with me! This is so utterly wrong that it makes me want to retch.

He gazes at me as if what I've done is nothing out of the ordinary and he walks back to his desk nonchalantly as he goes back to writing on the paper he had been working on a few seconds ago.

I curse fluidly under my breath and sit back down in the armchair I conjured. A sudden thought that I hadn't thought of until right now comes to my mind. I can't believe that I hadn't thought of this before.

"Where do you think they're going to send my letter that I usually get from school?"

"Here. You're not that stupid are you?"

I can feel my fingers twitch. "No, I was just wondering if the Ministry would find out about where you're living if they sent my letters here."

"There are wards. I'm perfectly safe here." He replies in a monotone as if that's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh." That's all I can come up with! 'Oh?' Damn me and my inability to form words when I'm with him!

There's a silence where the only sound is the quill he's using scratching on paper in front of him. I'm about to say something just so I don't have to hear the giggling bouncing off the sides of my skull but he speaks before I get a chance to.

"Do you want me to give you the Dark Mark?"

My attention is immediately snapped onto him. Wow. I guess I still do have a certain amount of concentration. That won't do at all. "What?"

"Do you-?"

I cut him off in mid-sentence. "I heard you the first time."

"Well?" He asks without removing his gaze from his papers.

"Why do you ask?" I reply, avoiding the question at hand.

"I am _just _asking. You needn't become defensive."

"I'm not becoming defensive. I'm just asking why you're asking."

"Well that's a stupid question." He states deadpan.

"It was not! I'm asking why you want me to get the Dark Mark." I roll my eyes in frustration.

"Are you joining the Dark?"

"I don't know." I answer honestly after a minute of actual constructive thought. I haven't done that in a while, that's for sure. And then I realize why I stopped it in the first place. Constructive thought arranges my thoughts and memories so I can actually acknowledge them and that makes me acutely aware that there's an actual world out there. I don't…like that. I don't like that at all.

"But you're not with the Light." He concludes.

"Right."

"Then who are you with?" He smiles, showing teeth. But the smile doesn't meet his eyes, just like it never meets mine. Maybe we're more alike than I had previously thought.

Right when _that_ thought passes through my head, I pretend it's a playing card and I throw a knife at it and it hits a wall in my mind. I give a nod in satisfaction. This will not do at all. I'm losing my edge here. That's just bloody brilliant.

"What edge?" He grins in amusement.

I roll my eyes again. He's such a freaking ass.

"And?" Is there a tune ricocheting on the inside of my head or is it just me again?

"You just are." I ground out in exasperation.

"You're the one who makes me act like this. I really can be quite pleasant."

I laugh softly to myself. My headache is like a hammer hitting steel. "Yeah, I'm sure you can be."

"Who are you with," he asks, once again with the same sheet of calm as before.

"Not the Light."

"But not with me either, correct?"

"That's right."

"This is getting us no where." He says as he shakes his head in exasperation.

I make no remarks to this as my headache at this point is making me see stars when I close my eyes. It hurts.

"You are welcome to go to sleep right now Harry." He invites softly.

I lean back in the chair and turn my emerald eyes toward the ceiling where they remain unfocused from my lack of glasses.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" I murmur. I don't really want to talk to him at this point in time. My adrenaline rush has evaporated and I'm starting to feel the strain that I got from trying to transform myself back in human form. Of all the-

"Nothing." He replies with an apologetic tone in his voice.

I can hear footsteps approaching my side once again and I don't give any kind of protest when he lifts my weary body into his arms. I'm too tired to care at the moment.

"I want you to sleep for awhile, all right?"

I mumble something that I suppose sounds like an agreement to him but really is just a mumble to me. As he takes this as an answer, he apparently proceeds to carry me to his chambers.

I am drowsily able to acknowledge that his mind is open to mine and I can feel his emotions meeting mine, but I can feel them intertwining together; merging until there's no distinguishable end to him or me. But this is me half asleep and tired to the bone recognizing this, so I don't exactly pay attention to this until much later when I happen to actually remember it. I shouldn't have wasted out so much energy…

I'm calmed to an extent that far surpasses how I've been before after this action and I begin to relax as sleep thus begins to enter my ruined remnants of a mind. I should hope I never wake again for the moment.

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It's funny what kind of dreams one will have when they happen to be fatigued to the downright bone. But as it is, this is the exact opposite for me and I'm not in the least bit surprised at what I dream of because I dream of things like this often. Today, you're apparently fucking a younger me while the real me watches from a slight distance. I think…that this took place in second year. Yes, it most definitely did. I can see Godric's sword on your desk covered in Basilisk blood after all. Or…is it mine? One like myself wouldn't remember such things when they're being lulled into a madness they can't keep in check now and again.

Every time you slam into 'dream me', my dream self screams in pain as blood runs down his backside. He screams silently though, but even that is no matter, as I know what my screams sound like by all the time that has passed. At points, the 'dream me' and I are watch each other with a look of knowing that only we together could possess.

Your face is one that I didn't know of during the times that you had your way with me. You would always make me face the desk when you did what you did and I didn't understand it at first, but as time went on, I came to realize that you made me do this because you were _old_. It was a wonder you didn't have a heart attack during the sex. I consider it a blasphemy now as I later found out that wizards couldn't exactly die or become ill from common Muggle ailments.

My dream self's mouth is open in a silent shriek as you dig one of your hand's nails into his neck and the other hand into his member. I'm watching in indifference and my mind is silent even though it should be screaming bloody murder like it usually does when I have these kinds of dreams that I can't seem to prevent. I don't like this. Something is very out of place here.

You're drawing blood on his neck and my dream self is screaming and screaming while tears run down his cheeks. It makes me wonder why the teachers didn't do anything about the things that you did. Did they just not know, or did they just not give a damn? I believe…it was the latter. I want to make my dream self pull away but this is a partial memory, partial dream so I can't change the outcome. I've tried to before, but it has had no effect.

You finally pull out of me as you're obviously satisfied now, and I see my dream self slide down onto the floor while blood covers his backside. I can't…do anything. You murmur a cleansing charm for yourself and you refasten your robes while you look down at me in utter distaste.

"Get up Harry." You order without any remorse whatsoever. I want to tell my dream self to not move because anything will be better than what you do next, but again, I can't so anything about this situation. Please let me wake soon, I don't want to watch this again-!

…There really are things that I don't remember repressing so far down into the depths of my mind…

My dream self is rising off the floor, shaking madly all the while, and trying to grip the desk in front of him for at least some kind of support while your eyes on my dream self terrify him and he averts his eyes in fear. You grip his chin in an iron-like grip and the 'dream me' is forced to look into your eyes. I want to turn away, but my eyes can't seem to close and my body can't seem to function at all.

"Please don't hurt me any more Professor." He begs, his voice hoarse.

You say nothing but pull out your wand. My dream self's eyes widen considerably but he won't and can't do anything in retaliation. He fears too much what you might do if he does try to retaliate. You wave your wand almost as if you are brandishing some sort of a whip and a whip truly does appear in your hand. It is a metal whip with thorns of steel protruding from the sides and my dream self cowers and nearly topples over. You bring the whip up, as if you are going to strike him and he hits the back of your desk as he tries to move backwards.

Your look on him is one of indifference as you turn him around so he is bracing his hands on your desk. He screams silently as the first striking is laid upon his back. Even though my dream self is silent in this part of my dream/memory, it strikes me as eerie on how I can hear you speak but nothing else but that…

What is this? My mind has begun its almost never ending underlying ruckus once more for some reason, but it is almost as if its in a panic...There's someone in my mind? If any gods do in fact exist, I pray it not be-

"How long have you been watching?" I ask softly, my voice echoing oddly in the dream universe picture. My body is still frozen in place so I am unable to view his features. But I'm glad I can't. My face is beet red in utter mortification.

"…For a while," he replies, softer than I have spoken to him. I want to bury my face in my hands.

"How much did you see?" I ask haltingly as I watch you strike me once again, my dream self's back ablaze in blood. My dream self is bathing in screams that I know are making his throat raw.

"Enough." He replies. He walks up behind me and I still can't force life unto my failing limbs. He slides his arms around me and turns me to face him. Dear gods, please-"There's no need to watch this over." He says in a near whisper. I wonder if he can hear my mind's lament. It's becoming louder and making it harder for me to maintain any kind of concentration.

"What? And miss the best part?" I answer in feigned surprise. "You didn't even get to see Albus play with Godric's sword!" He looks over my head and sees what I already know he sees. And I can picture it perfectly as my mind plays it over and over again like a skipping record.

You're drawing the still bloody sword from when I killed that Basilisk only a few hours earlier off the stand you had placed it on and my dream self remains motionless, as I know he will since this is a partial memory after all. You're turning him around right about now and the dream boy that was once me feebly attempts to grasp the desk.

A low chuckle escapes my lips but the Dark Lord pays it no mind. He appears transfixed on the scene unfolding before his ruby eyes. Therefore, I was right in my assumption that he had no idea of what you had done to me. Though now that he does, it makes things so much more complicated. Fuck it. What have I done? Damn it!

And now, you're probably raising the sword, isn't that right Albus? I can feel your nod in a mind inside a mind. How strange that would have been, had it been anyone else but me. But as it _is_ me, there is basically no surprise connected into this. The freaks are predictable, just like you said.

I can hear his gasp of surprise and that confirms what I knew you would do to my twelve year old body if the past. You've raised the sword and struck me through my back and had the blade emerge clear on my upper chest. It's a wonder the sword didn't strike my heart. It might have put an end to my never ending mourning after all. Through some miracle, not that I believe miracles to begin with, it somehow didn't, and I later found that I didn't mind much. It really was a magnificent wound and it made me pass out from the shear pain. And the agony itself, well, it was _excruciating_ and I still have a magnificent, repulsive, distorted scar to prove what you did to me. Aren't you just thrilled for the fact that you got to brand me as your personal-

"Don't even finish that thought."

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A.O.T.I.F.:(eye twitches) After having an excellent summer of doing utterly nothing productive, I present you with this chapter that defies all laws of absolute crap. (kicks desk)

To all those people who want Harry and our lovely Dark Lord to "get it on"; it's going to take a trifle longer. I apologize.

I did appreciate the reviews and after thinking about why that was the "high point" of my day, I realized that I needed to get a life.

Oh, and if you were wondering about how I did on my exams (which I knew you weren't), I got excellent scores and passed with flying colors. Take that Megan! I told you the "unintelligent" people _could_ get good grades!

If you're not going to flame, please give me a review that is at least semi-decent, that is all I ask.

Please review.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Apparently only the smart people own things like Harry Potter. I guess that means I won't be able to own anything…

Disclaim her: I am neither false nor fake; I am simply me.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, don't make me call your parents.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I lay no ownership rights on the quote below.

A/N: A good reputation is more valuable than money.

Chapter 10: Departure

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If I could move, I would have wrenched myself away from him at that exact moment. But as I couldn't, I didn't.

"Leave me alone." I manage to murmur while I feel his anger with you intensify immensely as I know that the memory has taken its turn for the worse. I don't even want to think about what you are doing to my younger self right now. Please…just let me wake. I never thought I'd say that, but he's here, and I don't….

"You need someone to care for you." He says softly.

"No I don't! Leave me alone!" I hope that he will leave, just like all the others did which will prove that he _was_ just like all the others. And then, I'll be alone, again. Just like I predicted I would be in the end. With all these things that I'm predicting coming true, one would have to think that I'm sort of seer.

"Please calm down."

"I will not! Just let me be!" I shout with my voice echoing in the dream universe.

"I don't think I will. Harry, I believe it is time for you to leave this memory. I've seen enough."

But he doesn't know enough. What is he trying to prove here? If he's trying to make me trust him, it's not going to work. I can't trust anyone after what happened with the Order and your sick games.

"Have you really though?" I answer back as my eyes avert to somewhere, anywhere that isn't him.

He gives no response as he takes my wrist in his hand and proceeds to pull me out of my dreamland of utter madness. I resolutely turn my head away from the scene that I know is unfolding even if I don't look toward it. _Don't look at it Harry, just don't look, save yourself from anymore anguish. _

But the more than half mad part of my mind has other ideas._ You know you want to look at yourself. It gave you some sort of sick thrill when he screwed you. You know you liked it_, it whispers softly next to me, so only I can hear its voice.

_No, that's a lie! I hated it! He hurt me! _

Even with this comeback, my mind strikes back ruthlessly. _Then why did you let it continue? You could have stopped the abuse when you got older. You could have defended yourself. _

_Shut up! _I scream at the voice that starts to laugh at my futile resistance against it. And the funny thing is that, that voice is _my voice_. I'm laughing at myself. That's just perfect. It's always been said that you're only truly insane when the voices start to answer back.

But of course, why drabble on and try to put together thoughts that make no sense to a disoriented mind that has lost all individuality? It's always better to drown out the things that make us different through some destructive method or another. Like per say, cutting for example. I'm glad I didn't toss out all my knives now. Maybe I will be able to take my life this time. It's frequently been said that where there's a will, there's a way.

He's still tugging my wrist so he can apparently lead me out of the madhouse I happened to call a sanctuary at the very few points in my time of schizophrenic outbursts when they would try to subdue me in vain. It's quite comical to see how far he's willing to go to make me trust him. Doesn't he ever listen?

"Come, Harry." He says more to himself than to me and my feet are moving of their own accord. He couldn't possibly be using the Imperius Curse on me…could he?

"No, I'm not. That would be ridiculously underhanded and even though I'm not exactly above those types of things, I wouldn't stoop so low. That would be stupid." The world reforms around me and I'm in his bedroom. Why does it seem that I keep ending up here of all places?

"You wouldn't, would you?" I sigh out as he lays me down on my side and sits down next to me. "Is it because you're Lord Voldemort?" He sets a hand in my hair and I concentrate on not flinching. But that really isn't so hard when I find that I couldn't have if I had tried. He has some sort of control over me that I _know_ I could break if I truly wanted to. But I don't, so I don't attempt to find out how deep this command over me runs.

"Should it be?" He asks quietly. I can't quite tell whether he's being sarcastic or truthful.

"It should be whatever you want it to be. My opinions should not control your actions." I respond hesitantly.

"On the contrary. I care much about what you think."

"I am sure you do." The hand that he had placed in my hair runs through my unruly raven locks in an almost affectionate gesture. Oh, I hate him with a vengeance.

"I tell you no lies Harry. Won't you believe me? I'll kiss you again if you say you do."

"I'd rather you didn't. You aren't going to seduce me. I won't accept it." I seem to be straying off the path I told myself I would take. I told myself I would let him manipulate me. Why am I resisting for Merlin's sake? Every time I seem to have figured out my screwy little mind, it just goes behind my back and pulls these kinds of stunts. But I guess the answers only do provide knowledge and not wisdom. Of all the-

"As you wish, Harry. You know as well as I that I won't force myself onto you."

"But you know as well as I that you have other methods of making me bow to your will."

"Oh, you really are coming along now, aren't you? You always seem to become so much smarter in the times we're apart. Although, you were far more naïve in your first couple years at that school than you are now. He didn't do anything during this school year from the fear that I could possess you, did he?" He asks abruptly.

"No…he didn't. But that should be no concern of yours!" I burst out as I realize what I've just said. My temper seems to be rising as the seconds tick by. Such a fickle thing it is nowadays.

"Anything that happens in your life concerns me. I told you that I care for you."

"Then you're a fool." I assure him without delay and with confidence.

"Why's that?" He asks sweetly, almost as if he knows the answer.

"You're a fool for caring for someone that doesn't return your feelings in the slightest."

"I know that." He responds evenly.

"Then why-?" I begin to protest but he cuts me off in mid sentence.

"I know that you don't give a damn about how I feel about you but that will not deter me in the least bit. I will still care for you in all the ways I can." He lies down and I know that he's facing my back. "I could kill you Harry." The silence becomes thunderous.

"Then why don't you, and put us both out of our misery once and for all?" I suggest hopefully.

"Because I need you."

I chuckle bitterly. Why can't he come up with something more creative? "Who the hell do you think that you're fooling?"

"No one." He replies simply.

I bite the inside of my lip harshly, for once controlling some of my disgraceful temper. I know I've drawn blood, as I taste metallic in the inside of my mouth. Damn him.

"You want to cause some kind of damage to me right now, don't you Harry?"

Oh, if he knew what I _really _wanted to do to him.

"But I do know, and I know that you could come up with something better than what you're thinking about doing. That's not in the least bit punishing."

I scowl but say nothing in retaliation. I don't like him. He makes me-

I quiet my raving mind with an assurance that it can vent later on when I need it to. Who would have thought that a silence could be so lovely?

"Please don't hate me." He whispers and I can feel the first real meaning behind those few words. He means what he says. But why do I believe him? Why does he make me feel this way for Merlin's sake! I hate this!

"I don't hate you." He says a point later where I've covered my face with my hands in an attempt to block out the world. Why does he make me question ideals that I've come to accept over my lifetime?

I pull my glasses off my face slowly and hand them to him over my shoulder. He gently removes them out of my slack grip and I hear the soft chink as he sets them down on the bedside table. My hand remains on my shoulder as I feel his thin, spider like fingers examining the surface of my palm, him tracing the "I will not tell lies" scar on the back of my hand, and then his fingers sliding farther down my wrist to inspect where the thinner crisscrossing scars from my self mutilation lie.

"Why won't you accept what will be regardless of everything you try to do in objection?" The question drifts over my mind, glossing over all the upsetting thoughts and memories so I think of nothing and no one.

How does he do this? I must find out...but perhaps another time would be better. This feeling that surrounds me even into the depths of my mind is not unpleasant and I don't particularly want to move away from it.

I can feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth and I curse him softly. It's all his doing; I know it is. And even though I am absentmindedly cursing him to the hells, I can feel my eyes closing as his arm encircles my waist. He is pulling me toward him and I am at…peace.

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It's dark as it usually is when I wake and I immediately recognize the loss of the Dark Lord's presence. A funny feeling develops in me as I stare at the empty place on the bed. I don't like this feeling that continues to tug at me as I remain in the room. It makes me uneasy… I give it no label as I rise and leave the room out of not knowing what to do.

His Manor is actually quite large and I haven't seen the half of it from the constant disputes the Dark Lord and I have. But as it is, I happen to know where I am wherever I go. This is odd. Is it because of my connection to Voldemort? Has he embedded this knowledge into me somehow?

I'm too involved in my thoughts to notice where I'm going and I end up running into someone that I don't immediately distinguish. I am knocked to the ground in the process and my glasses fly from my face to a few feet away.

"Harry, you should watch where you're going." Lucius says as he offers me hand. I accept it and he pulls me to my feet. He then hands me my glasses. "What are you doing wandering around the Dark Lord's Manor?"

I am about to answer him but I realize that I don't have an answer. "I…don't know."

"You don't know?"

I try to think of why I'm wandering about, but nothing seems to come to mind. I've drawn a blank. That's…strange.

"It's okay, come on Harry, I'll get you some tea." Lucius says softly as he places a hand around my waist. He walks me down the hallway and leads me to the kitchens. It appears that it wasn't very far away to begin with. Or maybe I'm just not paying attention to my surroundings, as usual. But in the back of my mind, I find that I already knew this.

"Sit down anywhere you like Harry." For some odd reason, the kitchens resemble the ones at Hogwarts. Maybe I'll ask him why when I see him again.

I sit down in one of the chairs of the long intricantly carved oak table in the room obediently as Lucius calls a House Elf. As he gives it his request, my mind wanders and that unfamiliar feeling that I had from before returns and makes me hurt in a way that I have never felt before. It is a piercing pain that makes me want to cry.

"Are you all right Harry?" Lucius asks worriedly.

I look up and smile as I nod my wellness. Lucius smiles brokenly back and I feel the confusion of how I have just made him feel. The smile meets his gray eyes and that makes that odd feeling within me intensify for some reason.

I force my features to remain intact as he hands me a teacup from the tray the House Elf has just brought. He then proceeds to give me a bowl of bowl of oatmeal and a tray with all the separate accompaniments.

"Eat, please. I know that you don't eat much and that is why you're so dreadfully thin." Lucius says to my unasked question. He then changes the subject abruptly. "You are aware that the Dark Lord has left for mission and that he will not return for perhaps a few weeks, correct?"

"What?" I ask sharply.

"He did not tell you?" Lucius demands.

"He was gone when I woke today." I reply as I turn the oatmeal distractedly with a spoon. "He didn't tell me anything."

Lucius says nothing but his features darken in anger.

"Please don't get angry, Lucius. He doesn't ever tell me anything. It's okay, it doesn't matter." I reassure him. I don't understand why he takes time for me. It's discomforting.

"I'm not angry Harry. You know you can't make me angry."

"Lucius?" I ask softly as I continue to stir my oatmeal in circles and end up forming the infinity sign.

"What is it Harry?"

"Why does the Dark Lord insist on telling me lies of how he cares about me?"

"It is only because he does." Lucius replies as if the answer is apparent to all.

"He does not." I retort indignantly.

"Yes, he does. Why don't you believe him?" Lucius inquires.

"Because he's a liar." I mutter disgustedly.

"How do you know that?"

"I just do."

Lucius sighs, but then smiles slightly a moment later. "I love you Harry."

My features soften against my will. "I know you do. Why are you telling me this now, of all times?"

"I just think that you needed reminding that there _are_ people out there who care for you." He pushes his chair back with these words.

I bite the inside of my lip as I watch Lucius rise. "Where are you going?" I ask uneasily. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"I have to return to the Ministry. I'll be back in a few days." He says quietly. Lucius turns as he begins to walk to the door and a blind panic rises within me. I don't want him to leave!

I force myself to move before he is gone. "Lucius! Lucius, wait!"

He turns in half surprise, half question. I run to him and nearly knock both of us down as I embrace him. I can feel him smile despite himself as he places his arms around me as well. I shut my eyes tightly as I inhale what makes Lucius who he is. Cologne, some kind of liquor, expensive cigars, and the telltale scent of his magical signature; which reminds me of something that I've known, but have currently forgotten.

"Harry, I have to go." He says softly.

"I know," I mumble into the folds of his robes.

"You're going to have to release me Harry."

"You do know that I-?" I begin awkwardly.

"I know Harry, I do. But I have to go," He repeats as he gently detaches my arms from around his waist. He ruffles my hair, a gesture that he knows I hate and he smiles a little.

"I'll be back soon. You needn't worry about me."

I scowl as I attempt to flatten my hair back down. "You know I hate it when you do that."

"That's what makes it all the more amusing." He says. He turns away as he reaches for the doorknob but pauses. "You didn't eat at all, did you?" He asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"No." I reply simply.

"At least drink the tea." He says.

"Do I have to?" I grumble as I continue to try to flatten down my hair.

"You're going consume something, no matter what it is. You need to eat more as you're too thin as is." He replies. "Be a good boy while everyone's away, won't you?"

"I am not an infant Lucius. I refuse to be coddled."

He chuckles softly but opens the door. "Good-bye Harry."

"Good-bye Lucius." I answer back faintly as I watch the door close behind black robes and blond hair.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Another chapter done. Let's not get violent and attack the writer in the request for more chapters. (Like that's ever going to happen.)

Please review.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: The voices said that I owned Harry Potter. But they're a bunch a liars.

Disclaim her: Love isn't the answer; it's the problem.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…(does a snake count...?)

Rating: M for Mature. Children, go take a nap and forget about coming here.

Point of View: First

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Always look on the bright side of life.

Chapter 11: Feedback

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After Lucius left, and the Manor was completely empty of human residents, I began to wander around, therefore the reason of me finding the library sometime later that day. I hadn't thought that there could have been a bigger collection of books than the collection that resided at Hogwarts, but I was wrong. Voldemort's collection of books was astounding.

And so, I began to read. I went through the spell books like there was no tomorrow. I also learned some many incantations in such a short amount of time; it was a bit comical. He had so many dark spell books, I don't think that I should have been surprised, but I was. Who knew that there was a spell to remove someone's intestines through their nostrils?

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I did eat later in the day as Lucius had asked me to, but it was only for his peace of mind, not mine. I don't know why I want to please him, but I don't particularly care for the reason either. Lucius is different from the others and I don't want to find out why. For some reason, I know that I will not like the answer if I do happen to find out.

I returned to the Dark Lord's bedroom a few hours later after looking around the dungeon and finding Muggles in the cells along with a few wizards. I was surprised to find Bellatrix down there as well, but when she cursed at me, I was happy that she was in that cell because otherwise I would have killed her on the spot. The bitch deserved it.

When I entered the Dark Lord's bedroom, I found Nagini slumbering on the bed. My immediate thought was that Voldemort had returned to the Manor. But then, I realized that if Voldemort had come back he would have contacted me somehow, wouldn't he? The female snake continued to sleep even though I knew that she knew that I was in the room.

After a brief shower, I dressed and when I came back to the main bedroom, I expected Nagini to be gone but she remained on the bed, still sleeping. I lay down next to her, halfheartedly hoping that she would attack me, but I know she wouldn't.

I can feel her open her eyes a moment later, trying to find the cause of her sleep disturbance. She raises her head and locks her eyes with mine and I meet her gaze unblinkingly.

**He would like me to watch over you, child. **Nagini hisses softly.

I roll my eyes in irritation. **So he thinks that I can't take care of myself?**

She gives what seems to be a sigh. **No, child, that is not the case at all. Why won't you believe that he cares about you? He has no reason to lie to you.**

**I'm sure he doesn't. But even if he did care about me, which I know he doesn't, why would he to begin with? I haven't given him any kind of reason to. **I retort crossly.

The snake flicks out her tongue, as she tastes the air. **Does he need to have a reason child? **

**Of course he does! **I hiss angrily as I yank my glasses off my face and hold them in between my fingers.

**Why? **Nagini asks, as she moves and coils up beside me.

The words tumble out of my lips before I realize what I've said. **Because it will prove that he's not lying like all the others did! **I hiss furiously. I surprise even myself with these words. Is that truly why I don't want to believe him?

**Are you really that stupid child? Has he tried anything with you that you were not comfortable with? **She rears up in anger but this is not with the intent to intimidate me. I know it isn't.** He is asinine in waiting for you to come to care for him as he does for you. I told him that you were never going to care about him but he continues to do whatever he can for you.**

I smile slightly as I offer her my arm. Nagini gives a human like sigh as she slides up my arm, around my neck and then to my other arm.

**He is very foolish child. **Nagini says irritably as she settles her head on my chest and shuts her dark eyes.

I chuckle sardonically. **I told him the exact same thing,** I tell her as I move and lay back against the pillows of the bed with being careful not to crush her. **When do you think that he will be back? **I murmur softly in Parseltongue.

She cracks open an eye at my question. **Does it matter?**

**No. But I want to know.**

If she had lips I know she would have smirked right then and there. **Maybe he wasn't such a fool after all.**

**What is that supposed to mean? **I demand sharply.

**You are an odd child. **Nagini says as she shuts her eyes.

**I don't like him. **I mutter as I begin to unconsciously pet Nagini. I really don't like him. I hate the way he makes me feel because he makes me feel…_human_. And I don't like that at all.

**I'm sure you don't child. **The snake assures me sleepily as she relaxes onto me. **But Tom has gone to retrieve the rest of your belongings from your godfather's house. And I don't know if I should be telling you this as well, but as Tom has not told me not to, I see no point in concealing this information from you. **The snake raises her head and looks directly into my eyes. **My Master has gone to the Department of Mysteries again to see if he can retrieve your godfather from… **She shudders and moves closer my heart as if what she is going to tell me is awful. **…From beyond the Veil, child.**

Mind numbing shock courses through me and I find myself frozen. How could he have not told me about this? He never said anything to me. This is what he had been doing all this time. And he wanted me to trust him.

_You're a liar!_ I scream in my mind, desperately hoping that this thought will reach him. _You're such a liar!_

But I hear nothing in response. My mind is silent but for the mad part that is cackling its victory. _You were starting to trust him despite yourself, weren't you? You're hopeless._

_No, I didn't trust him! I knew he was lying from the beginning!_

_You know lies are there only to dull the pain. You know the truth. You were starting to trust him even though you told yourself that you weren't ever going to. You just won't accept the facts. This was your undoing from the beginning._

_No, no, NO! I didn't believe him!_

_You did. And you felt secure trusting him. He makes you feel safe, doesn't he? Like you won't have to worry anymore? _My mind whispers softly, as if it's saddened by my failure.

My wrist begins to itch and I drag my nails across it distractedly while my mind continues to ramble on.

_You need to remember what Professor Umbridge told you. You must not tell lies. _My mind says to me and as I look down at my right hand, I see the thin cursive letters that resulted from my punishment with the woman.

_That woman was not in any way a Professor! We've been over this! _Oh crap. I'm talking to myself again and actually making it seem that my mind is a person of sorts.

**Child, I would suggest that you stop ripping the skin in your wrist. You're bleeding on the blankets.**

I glance down and see that my wrist is bleeding just as Nagini had said it was. With a muttered spell it heals, and I feel slightly disgusted with myself a moment later as result. I'm frustrated and I want to vent but there's no one in the Manor. Aren't I such a sadist?

And then it's as if realization dawns upon me. Oh, he thinks he clever, does he? I can't believe that I didn't notice this before. That fucking bastard. He purposefully had everyone leave the Manor, even Lucius, just to see how I would feel all alone.

Well, no matter. _I've been alone far longer and I turned out fine in the end_, I think to myself with cold smile.

Nagini gives a sleepy hiss and falls asleep on my chest while my mind mutters profanities and such to me. I am diverted from this as I begin to form appalling ideas within my mind of how I'm going to get back at the Dark Lord for making me start to trust him with. He's going to pay.

But then, there's the pressing issue of my godfather…

I suppose I should be grateful for what he's doing for me, but that still doesn't make up for the fact that he never told me about what he was doing in the first place. Sirius was my godfather after all. And maybe…this is just a ruse and Sirius is somewhere that can not be reached. That is a far more believable account and one that I am more accredited to believe in.

I sigh out angrily and look up at the canopy above the bed and become distracted by the coiling swirls in the ceiling. Hm, that's odd…I usually don't become distracted this easily. Maybe my distraction is just a result of my madness or perhaps-

_It's because of your concern for him._

I scowl in irritation as I push my bangs out of my eyes and return my glasses to my face. _I have absolutely no concern for him!_

_Oh yes you do. You know you're worried about what he's doing in the Department of Mysteries. You know that even though you don't want to care, you do. He and yourself are so much more alike than you know._

_We are not! I am nothing like him. I hate him!_ I shout in my mind.

_Whatever you say. _My mind relents for the first time that I can remember. _But this is not over, _it amends quickly. I can almost feel the smirk behind this comment.

"I hate him." I say softly. "I hate him…" I repeat to myself. Maybe the second time's for peace of mind? I can almost expect him to walk through the bedroom door at that moment. But that's just my paranoia kicking in. He won't be back for a few days. Though, I know that he _will _come back. He always comes back.

_But what if he doesn't?_

I shake my head in annoyance. _He'll come back. I know he will. He won't abandon me._

_You almost sound as if you and he are lovers…_My mind slips in deviously.

My eyes open and I blink hastily as my eyes adjust to the darkness. My stupid head thinks it's so bright…It will never outsmart me. Never.

After a few seconds, I realize something is off in the room. I'm sure I must have fallen asleep because I know I'm dreaming. There can be no way that I am seeing my godfather. Just a hallucination. That's what it is. As usual, my stupid mind is playing deceitful tricks on me.

My godfather takes a step toward me. His features are ragged, just like they were from when the I last saw him. No! I won't believe these lies!

But when I blink, he's still there.

"Harry?" He says softly and I sit up, not taking notice that Nagini has gone.

I smile slightly, but it's absentmindedly. Maybe I should be put up in St. Mungos. These hallucinations are taking their toll on my soul... I'm such a freak.

"You're not real. But it's all right. I'll play along with this one, my idiotic mind."

"Harry? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. But mind, are we going to continue on like this and pretend that he's really there when we both know that he's not?"

My mind formed godfather appears confused. Oh, it's deciding to tackle human emotions, is it? Clever.

"Harry…what's wrong?"

My smile slips a little. He sounds so human, like he's actually there… "No. You're not real. It's just my mind playing tricks on me." _Excellent comeback_, I tell myself. _Don't put any belief in a delusional figment of your imagination._

"I'm real, Harry." He says as he takes yet another step toward me. No, I have to back away. If I make no contact, then I can save myself the pain of realizing that he's not real, again. I move and slide myself out of the bed so it separates us.

His gaze remains locked with mine as he walks around the bed so he ends up facing me. He takes yet another step toward me. I back away blindly and try to find some way to put a distance between this hallucination and I. Another step. I hit the wall in back of me. He takes another step in my direction. I have no idea of why I am so afraid when I know that he isn't real. I mustn't make contact. Absolutely no kind of contact.

He lifts an arm to reach out for me. I can feel myself sliding down to the ground while my eyes continue to remain on him. He takes yet another step toward me. He's only a few feet away; but am I going to do? I curl up and try to leave none of myself exposed as I shut my eyes tightly and tell myself the same thing again and again. _Just a hallucination. He's not there. He's not there!_

Nevertheless, I hear footsteps approaching my side. _Stay calm. Don't move. Give no indication of what you are thinking. Do not show your fear, as it's what makes you so weak time and time again._

"You don't need to be afraid. Everything is going to be all right." He whispers, and I feel something brush over my cheek. My godfather gently removes my hands from my face as he pulls me out of the corner I had been trying to find escape in. No! Please, no! Please don't make me look at him! I'm _afraid_! I don't want to hurt again! No!

Then, as he lifts my head, I meet his eyes. And that is when I know that he's existent and that he is in no particular way a figment of my imagination. This can't be. He was behind the Veil…wasn't he? No! I cannot doubt myself!

He pulls me to my feet and I feel myself tremble violently as he pulls me to him. Sirius enfolds me in his arms and I know I would have collapsed but for his arms around me. Oh, I know I'm dreaming. But what…a lovely dream this is.

And since this is a dream, I don't have to restrain my emotions anymore. I can feel myself begin to cry pathetically onto his shoulder as he merely stands in front of me. I have to be…secure! I'm going to kill Voldemort for this! Damn him to the hells, I will! Damn him! Damn… him… I…

"You're really here, aren't you?" I whisper in a voice so low only he could have heard it.

"Of course I am. You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'll be here."

"I sincerely…hope that you will. Because if you leave me alone again, I don't know what I'll do. I'm already…half mad as is."

"I know." He pulls away from me and looks straight into my tear strewn eyes. "But the original Harry is more than half here, isn't he?"

"I should be inclined to believe so. But that might not be me, couldn't it? It could be my crazed side speaking to you here and now."

"I have faith it's the real you. After all, the true Harry Potter wouldn't give up without a fight, would he?" He says with a crooked smile. And a smile finds it's way onto my face as well. Happiness seems to do that.

This feeling that I have right now… It makes me believe that all is right with the world. And for all I know, it could be.

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A.O.T.I.F.: I hate writing supposed "happy ending" chapters. I am more satisfied with the blood and gory violence that ends with the death and/or serious injury to the main character(s). Please no questions on how Sirius was back from beyond the Veil. The Dark Lord has his sinister and blasphemous ways of doing things no ordinary person could do.

Please review.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: It's a pity that they take away all of your deeply treasured possessions in the nuthouse.

Disclaim her: Checkmate.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Sirius, Dumbledore, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Aren't the children straying a little too far from mother?

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: People should keep their words both soft and tender because tomorrow they may have to eat them.

Chapter 12: Confrontation

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"So you live with the Dark Lord now?" Sirius asks while I have an odd feeling he's not going to try to convince me to leave The Dark Lord's Manor.

I fight the urge to look away from my godfather's face and maintain my gaze with his. "As a matter of fact, I do. Does that bother you?" I'm only asking to confirm my suspicions.

"Not really. Though, I have to ask you something that is a bit personal. Do you mind?"

"No."

"Are you and Voldemort lovers?" He asks abruptly.

Try as I might, I can't keep the shock from my features and I can feel amusement float through the back of my thoughts a mere second later. So, he's decided to listen in with my conversation with my godfather, has he now?

_I advise you to not interfere in matters that do not concern you. _I say with some amount of irritation embedded into my voice.

_You truly do not understand why he believes that we are lovers?_ I hear a soft laugh a moment later as he realizes that I in fact do_ not _understand. _Oh Harry, you're still such a child, no matter how you try to pull off the role of a fully independent adult._

I scowl as he breaks the link and finally leaves me in peace. When he returns, I'm going to smack him. I won't hesitate this time around. I'll break free form the control he has over me! Damn him!

_Will you now, Harry?_

_Could you any ruder? Stop sinking into my thoughts! _I yell in frustration.

"Harry, are you all right?" Sirius asks worriedly as I haven't answered him and I'm gazing somewhere off to the side.

"I'm fine. And we are not lovers." I reply firmly.

He gives a shrug as if it doesn't matter. He's…changed. But I know that it's the real him. The Dark Lord wouldn't…be that cruel. He wouldn't create some sort of puppet to imitate my godfather…would he?

_You underestimate him. _My mind whispers. _And you're becoming trusting, even though you said that you wouldn't._

_No, I am not! I hate him! _I retort with fury.

_What you feel and what you say are two completely different things. Denial is so much more satisfying as you clearly know. You detest putting the truth into words because that will mean acceptance. And if you accept what you have denied for all this time, then you won't know what to do anymore. When you remain in denial, everything is secure and nothing changes. But you must accept the adjustment because it is the way of the future. _My mind finishes smugly.

_But change makes us different, _I reply softly.

_You are already as different as it is humanly possible to be. _My mind replies. _Stop refusing to believe what everyone already knows._

_But I don't want to be out of the ordinary… _

_Does it truly matter how you appear to others?_

…_No. I am who I am. My faults prove I am myself because even I change my outward appearance, I will continue to remain who I truly am on the inside. But I still don't want to be unique._

_He cares for you for the sole reason of you being _unlike_ the others. Why can you not seem to understand that? He obviously doesn't care that you are "off" in more ways than one. He doesn't care about the things that you've done and that have been done to you. _

_Liar._

_I'm not telling lies. After all, "I must not tell lies."_

_Don't you dare say things that remind me of that woman! That woman was a bitch, and we both know it!_

_You should take reign on your emotions._

_Oh, shut up. _

_You know it's true._

"Harry?"

I return my gaze to my godfather and find that he appears worried. "Yes? What is it?"

"Would you mind if I left for a little while? I…need to go take care of something." He doesn't exactly meet my eyes at that and it causes a flicker of concern to emerge within myself.

"It's Remus, isn't it?" I find myself saying quietly.

He looks immensely startled but his features soften after a few moments. "You knew all along, didn't you?" It's not really a question.

I can feel a smile tugging on my lips. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't need to. But Remus knows that I know now. He was…shattered when you went behind the Veil." I say as I lean back into the armchair I occupy.

"I know. I could see him."

My eyes snap open from the doze I had been unconsciously falling into. Why in the heck am I falling asleep now of all times! "What are you talking about?"

"I could see him. It was like I was a ghost in some way and I could see everything, but no one could see me. And I saw… the things Albus did to you and the things you did to yourself. Why didn't you say anything to anyone? Someone could have helped you."

"No one would listen to me anyways, so why do you think that they would believe another one of my supposed crackpot "stories," Sirius?"

My godfather looks at me as if I have grown before his eyes. "You've changed."

"Course I have. Everyone changes whether they like it or not."

_That's a good boy, Harry. You're beginning to come out of denial._

_Shove it. _I tell my mind sharply. I'm so screwed up…

"You won't mind if I-?"

"Of course not. Go to him." I say as I avert my gaze down at my lap. "My only request is that you bring him back here. Grimmauld Place is not the best place for him to be right now. I don't know what has happened while I've been with Voldemort but I advise you to not cause a scene. Get out of there with as much secrecy as you can. You can live here from now on since the Dark Lord has so many rooms in his Manor."

_Unless you object?_ I inquire to him within my mind.

_Are you really even asking? You were going to tell him to return with the werewolf even if I had forbid you from bringing him here._

_Where are you? _I find myself asking before I can stop myself. Curiosity entangles my thoughts as he ponders why I am asking him such a thing.

…_Does it matter to you?_

My mind fights with me for the answer that is right in both of our perspectives. _Will you tell me?_

_I'm still at the Ministry, but I'm currently fighting off a couple of Aurors. I have to get to the Atrium to Apparate out of here._

_WHAT!_

_You shouldn't be concerned for someone you hate Harry._

_I'm not concerned! _I retort irritably. _But…do you want me to come to the Ministry to help you fight them off?_

_There's no need. I have Lucius, Severus, and Bellatrix, with me. But that was a nice offer Harry. _There a short pause where I can feel his attention diverted from me and I can hear someone's scream being registered in his mind._ Oh sh-_ He cuts off our link abruptly and I am left in silence.

And again, even though I know I shouldn't be troubled and my mind is cackling gleefully in the back round, I find myself wanting to go to the Ministry just to see if it really is just a "couple of Aurors" like he said it was. I know he lied. Why else would he have so many people with him? Was there something going on there that he was just not telling me? But was it just to make me _not_ concerned?

"Sirius, go and get Remus. I have to go out as well, and I might not be here when you get back, but I will come back later."

"I know you can take care of yourself, but I have to ask. Where are you going?"

"No where important. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." And with that, I conjure a midnight black cloak out of thin air and Disapparate to the Ministry.

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Immediately when I enter the Atrium, I cover myself with the cloak. Better for them to think their savior gone missing then having changed alliances. I can hear the sound of distant fighting as I hold my wand at the ready. This scenario is ridiculously familiar.

I pass the clerk's desk and find the man slumped over on the floor; he's out cold. This gives me an odd sense of déjà vu as I walk past the desk and enter the lift. As I press the number nine button to get down to the Department of Mysteries, the lift almost immediately begins to clatter noisily down the floors.

The lift opens and I again find myself at the door that I saw not a mere two months before now. And as I open it, it reveals that odd room with all the doors. And somehow, I know exactly which door I'm searching for this time and even though the room begins to spin as I close the door, from which I came. I walk straight ahead and open the door to find the room containing the courtroom of the Wizengamot.

Immediately the sounds of fighting and yells reach my ears and to my surprise, I find that there are over fifty Aurors fighting the Dark Lord and the few followers that he has with him. I immediately jump over the stone bench that is in my way and as luck would have it, none of the Aurors seem to notice my arrival. And without wondering why, I make my way over to the Dark Lord's side while he and the Death Eaters continue to parry curses.

And I only fully realize what is really going on in this room when I reach the Dark Lord's side. I find with a certain amount of shock that as the Aurors continue to fight Voldemort, that _you're_ watching almost happily in the back round.

The Dark Lord looks at me for a moment before he blocks a curse that has come my way. The Aurors finally seem to have noticed that someone else has come to the Dark Lord's aid and are mustering all they can while all their spells reflect off the barrier I decided to conjure a few seconds ago.

"What are you doing here?" He asks in a low voice that I can hear despite the resounding back round racket.

"You lied." I reply simply with irritation coloring my voice.

"There aren't _that_ many…" He says and I can barely hear him as I see you rise. With a flick of your wand, you break my barrier instantly. But that is no matter, as it was one of the weaker ones. And as you stand, the Aurors move back instinctively. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucius topple over along with Bellatrix. Severus falls to his knees clutching his arm.

"What is he doing?" I ask quietly. The whole room is in a ringing silence.

_He's attacking them through their minds. Control yourself please, and don't speak out loud again._

_I won't, but you don't have to make it sound like you're giving me orders. You know I wouldn't follow them anyways._ I tell him softly as I sit down on the steps that lead up to the dais. I make sure the cloak's hood covers my head as I rest my chin in my hand. This should be entertaining…

The archway behind me flutters as if a breeze has flowed through the room. There are murmurs of question as the Ministry Aurors see one of the Dark Lord's followers sit down nonchalantly as if it's nothing at all. There are more suspicious murmurs as they see the Dark Lord is not protesting toward this behavior. But then, the murmurs die down as you move forward. I was beginning to wonder when you would move. My mind screams for me to cast the Cruciatus, but I control the extremely violent urge to cast the Unforgivable.

My mind floats into Voldemort's and the thought of standing in front of me for some sort of protection is valiantly attempting to be suppressed. I want to tell him that he doesn't need to do anything, that I can take care of myself, but you begin speaking. I don't want to hear your voice, but it penetrates my skull through some way or another.

"Where is he, Tom?" Your voice is cold, sharp.

"I wouldn't know what you're speaking of, Dumbledore."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Where is Harry?" Your voice is almost nervous, almost concerned.

"Potter? You can't be serious. You lost Potter!"

"Tom, I know you have him. Please, let him go.

"What makes you think I have him, Dumbledore?" As he says this, I glance over at the Aurors and find that seem frozen…A Freezing Charm I suppose. You didn't want anyone to hear you speak with him and have them realize that you had let your most precious possession had escape your clutches at long last, did you?

"So you don't have him?" You ask with something that could be considered anxiety in your voice.

"Why would I? The Potter brat is-" _Please forgive me for this Harry,_ he says quickly in my mind."-Useless. He always has been Dumbledore. Surely you must have noticed that?"

Useless, am I? Well, at least he's not telling lies. Though I don't understand why he apologized for that comment…

"Harry is not useless." You say, biting off the words almost as if you regret the words the moment you say them.

"Really?" The sarcasm in his voice is cutting.

"Why are you here, Tom?" Dumbledore says with an abrupt change of subject. "Why risk being caught in the Department of Mysteries? For what reason?"

"I am here with my own reasons. If you do not step aside, I will be forced to fight you. Or maybe I'll let-" Here I see Voldemort gesture toward me out of the corner of my eye. "-Fight you." He finishes smoothly.

"Who is that?" Dumbledore inquires sharply, uneasily, jerking his head in my direction.

"It doesn't matter." Voldemort replies in a softer tone, one that is worn.

"Tell me." You demand but I see the Dark Lord shake his head in refusal as I turn my head toward him.

"Aren't you going to try to kill me Dumbledore?"

"There are worse things than death Tom, as I'm sure you're aware."

"That is as you always tell me." He replies in an unconcerned tone.

…_I'm bored. You want me to finish him off? _I ask conversationally.

_No…Just take down the Aurors. _He replies as if what we're talking about is completely ordinary.

_Right then. _I slip into my Animagus form and rear up and while in his mind, I use his eyes for my sight. Through him, I can see your eyes widen a fraction. But inside, I know you're surprised. I know I am a bit smaller than the Basilisk in the Chamber, but my size is still quite big.

I hiss in anger as I feel you attempt to breach my mind and I immediately throw you out with no remorse whatsoever. I watch in pleasure as you sway slightly at the force I threw you out with.

**You want me to kill the Aurors? **I ask, my anger nearly hitting him as I fight to control myself from lashing out onto you.

**If you want to. Just hurt them enough so that they won't be coming out of St Mungos anytime soon…Wait, I've changed my mind. Kill half.**

**But they're still frozen. Where's the fun in that?**

**All right, is that better? **The Dark Lord asks as he lifts the spell he had cast upon the Ministry Aurors. As the Aurors regain their wits, they give shouts of surprise and horror at the sight of me.

**This _is_ better. Thank you. ** I reply, as I flick my tongue out to taste the air. This is going to be fun… And then, I open my eyes.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Is that considered a cliffhanger…? Hey, I know you people are reading this piece of crud, so I would appreciate a review on your opinion of it…I'll try to update next week.

Please review.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I have a Harry Potter sticker. Um…that's about it.

Disclaim her: Offered, myself to myself.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children go bye-bye now.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: We should be happy we don't get everything we ask for.

Chapter 13: Carnage

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And then, I open my eyes.

Nearly a third of the Aurors die instantly and fall to the floor with a thud and I feel something akin to a sadistic thrill at this. Killing makes me feel…_alive_. What a positively wonderful feeling this is. I feel Voldemort's attention diverted from me as he watches Dumbledore. He's still trying to protect me…as usual. But what are you going to do that is going to be so ridiculously devastating to me? You can't do anything to me that I probably haven't already experienced at some point in my overly miserable existence.

The rest of the Aurors seemed to have regained their wits and have shut their eyes as they face away from me. Not very bright, are they now? I could attack at anytime but they don't dare face me in the fear of being exterminated by my gaze.

Who am I going to remove from this reality next? Such a pressing decision that is…Well the weakest should be taken off first…so here we go again. It isn't very hard to see the weaker though. From what I can see about the magic surrounding each individual, I'm surprised some of these people even became Aurors.

As I move forward, you move backward into the sea of dead and undead Aurors. And the remaining Aurors, well they don't dare turn and face my deadly gaze. I hiss at the fools and I see that a few actually wet themselves in terror. It must be my lucky day. But I never had luck to begin with so…what do I have?

I whip my tail around and knock over half the Aurors, some die in the process, but the majority of the said Aurors are merely disoriented. More turn to my gaze and they also die to meet their comrades in the supposed afterlife.

_Well, is that enough?_ I inquire pleasantly.

He laughs softly in my mind and I can feel the echo of it reverberate for seconds later._ Well, there's not many left, if that's what you were wondering…_

As he says this, I glance over to where the Aurors are and see that there aren't many standing let alone alive. My mind absently acknowledges the fact that you're gone. You bloody coward…

The floor is a mass of corpses, severed limbs, and scarlet. Hm…I hadn't thought that I hit any one of them _that_ hard…Well, that's a damn shame. If he hadn't been here, I think I would have devoured some of those Aurors. Carnage like this is truly beautiful and it wouldn't do to at all to let such powerful magic go to waste. I know those kinds of thoughts are completely beast-like, but the snake's instincts within me tell me that it wouldn't be so bad to do these kinds of things.

_No, you're not going to consume the Aurors, Harry._

Damn, he got those thoughts? Oh well. I _did_ want to consume the pitiful Aurors after all…

_And why not?_ I ask politely.

_There is a time and place for those kinds of actions and feelings but this is not one of them._

I give a rude hiss as I slither back to where he remains on the dais and slide back into my human form, right back onto the steps I had been sitting on before.

_Hate you._

_It's just as well. _He replies evenly. _That's what makes it all the more interesting._

_You can shove that up your-_

_Now, now. That language is indecent._ He says, and as I glance up to look at him, he smiles down at me. He's returned the Glamour…

"What, you don't like the Glamour?" He asks even though I know he knows the answer.

"The Glamour's fine." I sigh, as the Dark Lord sits down next to me on the steps. There is a silence where I want to lean on him because that transformation sapped some of my energy away but I dare not in fear of confirming my mind's predictions. But he takes that decision away from me as he pulls me toward him and then I am forced to lean on him. That bastard knew all along…

"You're tired again." A statement, not a question. I relax even though instinct screams at me not to. But instinct is thrown out the window as I calm further the moment he places an arm around my waist. The contact makes me tremble, the feeling he gives me, intoxicating.

"And?" I murmur indifferently with a fight to not shut my eyes.

"Why are you always so tired?" He asks softly as I trace the scars on my inner left arm. The scars seem to have formed some kind of pattern. How…strange. I shouldn't be surprised though. There are so many "oddities" involving myself that _I_ didn't even realize that I had.

"Why do you ask questions that you already know the answers to?" I reply as he strokes my hair slowly. I mustn't fall asleep. I can't fall asleep again. I know that if I fall asleep again, he'll be gone and I'll be back at the Manor…alone. Why does he do such hateful things to me…?

_He _does_ make you feel secure._

_Yes, he does, _I relent quietly. _I don't know why, but he does. And I…_

_Like it? Of course you do. No one's ever made you feel safe. _My mind says softly.

He's playing with strands of my hair and I feel myself tiring even more. I can't fall asleep! Why is he doing this to me? I don't…want to sleep but…my eyes close and I distantly register the fact that I'm being lifted up. Why is he carrying me? I can walk…by myself…

_Sleep. Just sleep. Nothing will come your way._ He whispers and it feels as though he's extremely close to me.

No, I don't want to rest. I'm…fine. But…I'm…so tired.

_Please…just sleep. I promise I'll be with you when you wake._

_Don't…lie…_

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The moment I wake, the only thing I register is being so disoriented I have no idea where I am. Panic settles in and my mind remains silent through the disarray I've entered. What…what in the hell is going on?

But then I see him, and everything sinks into its proper place and I'm caught up to speed with what's happened. He didn't leave. He said that he would stay and he did. He didn't…lie to me.

"Are you feeling better now, Harry?" I feel something being placed in my hand and realize that it's my glasses. I slip them onto my face and he comes into focus. He's gazing down at me, which causes me to take in where I am. The bedroom, once more and forever more. But then, I take in his appearance. The only thing covering the Dark Lord is a towel and the water is dripping down his bare torso. Hm, déjà vu… I immediately avert my eyes in embarrassment as I found I was watching the water droplets slide down his chest, down his abdomen-

I'm sick! A freak! Disgusting!

"You are not a freak." He says quietly as he turns my head toward him. I determinedly keep my eyes upon his face. "Don't ever say that." Ruby meets emerald and a flash of pain from him meets me. Voldemort turns away and walks over to his wardrobe.

"If you would like to, I could take you to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies. Your letter came while you were sleeping."

"Can I shower?" I ask softly and he turns to look at me curiously for a moment.

"Go ahead. Come downstairs when you're done so you can eat." He says as he walks out of the room while pulling on a clean pair of black robes.

_He really likes you, _my mind says quietly.

_He does not. _I return crossly.

_He does, and you know it, _my mind murmurs smugly.

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"Ah, you look much better, Harry. Very much refreshed." He says as I sit to his right at the large table. "What would you like to eat?"

"I'm not very hungry." I did drink the tea that Lucius asked me to though, but that was it. But he doesn't need to know that.

"Tea is not a meal." Damn it! "You will eat something that is healthy. It is lunchtime, so I could get you some soup."

"Fine." I reply with a scowl. Better to agree than to argue with him all day. For some reason, I think that if I had refused to eat anything, he would have found _something _and forced me to eat even if the event of forcing meant shoving the food down my throat.

"Oh, you are clever. But I wouldn't have forced you manually. I would have used magic. So much more effective and less effort required."

"I should have known."

"But you did. You can know exactly what I'm thinking but you don't delve into my mind as I do you."

"I choose not to." I retort coldly. "I have a respect for personal boundaries though it is obvious you do not."

_You're lying, _my mind whispers. _You know that's not true._

"You're not fooling anyone. You're _afraid_ to sink into my thoughts because you don't know what you'll find." He says as he takes a small sip from the glass of red wine that sits in front of him.

"I am not."

He smirks, which infuriates me, as it always seems to do. "Prove it."

"I don't have to prove anything to you."

"Well that _proves_ something." He says with a small smile.

"You're an ass."

"What does that have to do with anything?" He inquires as he cocks his head at me almost innocently.

I curse fluidly under my breath and force myself not to stand up and hit him.

"You want to hit me? Well, go ahead, if you think that's going to do anything useful. But don't make a disgrace of yourself as you did the last time you tried to strike me." He adds as an afterthought.

With a rush, I swear I have no idea I got to his side so quickly; I've raised my hand and brought it across his face in a slap. The slap caused his face to turn away from me and thus enable me in the sight of a rapidly forming handprint on the right side of his face. Somehow, I feel immensely satisfied. Now hate is by far the greatest pleasure I've ever experienced.

_You shouldn't have done that. _My mind informs me anxiously.

_He deserved it!_

_You still shouldn't have hit him. Something awful is going to happen. _My mind warns.

And then, the situation itself and the extent of what I've done registers within me. I unconsciously move backward a few steps as he turns his head toward me. His eyes are dull and I feel myself move back even more. I have half a mind to apologize but something tells me that would have no effect whatsoever.

He breathes out softly, and the pain that I had experienced when I had been with Lucius in the kitchens earlier, returns full force causing me to bite the inside of my lip sharply. I know that I've drawn blood a few moments later as I taste metallic. I continue to gaze at him and hastily avert my eyes every few seconds, but he pays no attention to this as he takes another drink of the wine that sits before him.

We descend into an uncomfortable silence only made worse by the pain that is splitting through my chest. I retake my seat and a few minutes later, a house elf appears by my side carrying a tray of what seems to be a bowl of chicken soup. I take the bowl from her and she hands me a glass of water out of nowhere along with silverware. She then proceeds to walk off toward the general direction of the kitchens, and I stare at the food in front of me for a few moments before I look at the Dark Lord. He's not even looking at me.

I turn back to my meal and begin to eat, knowing that if I don't, something extremely unpleasant is going to happen. I know for a fact that I won't like it. After consuming half of my meal, I look back at him and see that he's turned his head in my direction once more. The handprint that I made on the side of his face is a deep pink, an extremely sharp contrast against his ridiculously pale skin.

And yet again, without knowing why, I find myself rising to my feet and walking to his side. My hand glows a soft white this time and I raise it and place it on his cheek. The mark immediately fades away but through the warmth of my hand, I can feel his icy skin. Why is he so cold? Again, the contact I make with him makes me feel strange inside and I can't put any of it into words. Oh, Merlin help me! I hate him but why I am I feeling this way!

He looks up at me with my hand still placed on the side of his face. His face remains impassive, but I know he understands the message I'm attempting to covey to him. So when he reaches out with an arm and pulls me toward him, I don't protest. He makes me feel…guilty about the things that I do. I don't…like that. I shouldn't feel this way. It's sinful. My hand falls to my side absently as I find the pain I've been experiencing has faded. But it doesn't occur to me at the time that the pain faded the moment he touched my arm.

"I know you're sorry." He says quietly. "And besides, that didn't exactly hurt. You hit like a seven year old girl." After he says this, I find that I'm not even the slightest bit annoyed at that comment. Why…is that?

"Do I?" I ask without voicing anything in my tone. Why do I feel that I sound restrained? "Why do you think that is?"

"Are you all right?" He asks with distress entering his voice.

I find myself mustering up a smile with no idea why though I can hear my mind rummaging through my memories for a song. And as usual, when it finds what it's looking for, it begins to sing. "I'm fine. I told you that you don't have to worry."

"I worry because _you_ don't. Come on, I'll take you to Diagon Alley, if you're finished, that is."

"I'm finished but I don't need you to come with me. I can take care of myself." I say with a scowl. My mind hums softly in the back round but that isn't what's distracting me. What's making me distracted is the fact that he is smiling at me slightly and that the smile meets his eyes.

"I know you perfectly able to take care of yourself, but I still will accompany you. Your complaints will get you nowhere so don't even try to say anything.

I mutter a disgraceful curse under my breath but utter nothing else. "Are we going to Apparate or use the Floo Network?" I ask resignedly.

"Floo this time. I need to go pick up something in Knockturn Alley."

"Which is?" I ask with curiosity.

"It doesn't matter. You're sixteen now, right?"

"Yes, I am. My birthday was a few weeks ago." I reply in a low voice as I remember what happened on that birthday. I hate birthdays. I've never had one that turned out well.

"That's good. Come to the sitting room and we'll go." He pushes back his chair and rises to his feet. "Unless you need anything, of course?" He inquires lightly.

"I need to withdraw some money from my account at Gringotts." I hear myself saying very quietly.

"That's not a problem, so why do you sound so unenthusiastic?" He asks uneasily.

"I don't want anyone to see me and take me back to Grimmauld Place. I don't like it there." I tell him with weariness taking my voice.

"No one's going to ever take you away from me as long as I draw breath. Surely you must know that?" He says with a smile that I can't make myself return.

He seems to understand that I am still concerned about the Order and that I'm too distracted to care about what's going on right now, so when he walks over to me and tilts my head up, the action doesn't register.

Even when he gently presses his lips onto my cheek, it takes a few long seconds for me to realize what has just occurred. But when I do take in that he kissed me and that I gave no protest in the world, he's left the dining hall. Just…like before. And just like my scar burned when he kissed me the last time on my forehead, it does now, but with more force than I thought anything could have. And to my surprise, the sensation that he's given me is wondrous.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Lovely, just lovely. (eye twitches) So it appears that all it took for reviewers was a **good summary**! (cackles madly) (coughs)

(recomposes) Well…can't say that I'm disappointed, I got so many reviews the other day! My imaginary friends and I weren't having a very pleasant weekend, but then I checked my e-mail and after sifting through the junk mail, I found that I had reviews! That made me so insanely happy, I decided that maybe this crap-story wasn't so bad after all…

I suppose I have to respond to the reviewers, so I'll just get right into it.

Hope you're happy I brought Sirius back, yes I know Harry is quite mad, "they" is referring to Dumbledore, and when Harry states that "you're going to miss fucking me," he's speaking of Dumbledore.

I particularly liked the comment on how Harry and the Dark Lord being in the Ministry could be considered their "first date." Is that all I needed to answer? If I didn't answer your question, send me a message and I'll try to that way.

Have a positively delightful day, courtesy of A.O.T.I.F.'s newfound sugar high. Well wishes everyone.

Please review.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I like to read the Harry Potter books, but that doesn't mean I own anything Harry Potter related.

Disclaim her: To you, I bequeath my inheritance. This, I bequeath to you.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, go learn your letters like all the other good kids.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: A smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks.

Chapter 14: Purchases

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I'm left stunned for what could be considered hours or it could have been a mere few moments. My cheek…it burns…I shouldn't think of these things! Damn it! I can't do this anymore! I hate these feelings he gives me!

I slam a fist down on the table in anger which causes all the cutlery to shake violently from the force. I force myself to maintain my temper and not lash out at him. I'm not weak!

"No…I am weak…" I murmur softly as my breathing returns to normal. Rational thought, the thought I hate most, returns. "He made me this way…" _You _in particular made me this way. Dependent on others, so I could never become independent no matter what I thought of myself. You made me so fucked out of my mind I can't think even think straight anymore…

But…when did I ever think straight to begin with? I'm awkward and strange. Who's going to ever want me? I don't deserve people placing their emotions and interactions with me. I'm not worth the attention of others. Look where it got me…

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I cough sharply on the soot that enters my lungs as we exit the fireplace and enter a room that resembles the Hog's Head. Before we left the Manor, he asked me to stay close to him for the reason of Knockturn Alley being a very dangerous place if one had no experience with it. I promptly told him that I could take care of myself, but he merely offered his hand to me. I did not mention that I had been to Knockturn Alley many times before and that I knew exactly what I was doing.

Voldemort pulls my cloak more over my face so my features are completely hidden now as we exit what I believe was an inn. With his Glamour, he looks like a regular man, not like the wizard who has massacred hundreds of people.

_Would you prefer it I look like Lord Voldemort? _He asks withlaughter echoing through my mind

_I'd rather you didn't attract attention._ I tell him with an edge to my voice. My mind…is weary…

_Who do you think you're talking to? _He asks unbelievingly. _Harry, why would I want to attract attention? You receive enough torture as is._

I sigh out loud as we pass a number of what seems to be shops. I can't exactly tell what they are in this darkness and because I haven't visited this part of Knockturn Alley much. But I do know that they are in fact buildings.

"Will you tell me where we are going?" I inquire in a low voice so as to not be heard by any others. I peer up at him in question but he merely gives me a small smile.

"You will see when we get there." He assures me with confidence.

"This is ridiculous. Why won't you tell me?" I demand irritably.

"You need to have patience." He stops suddenly in front of what I suppose is a shop but as the windows as are so filthy, I can't be sure. "Ah, here we are."

Voldemort pulls the door open for me and I enter with him behind me. I believe…that he has led me to a jewelry store. He can't be serious.

He walks up to the front desk and a slender woman with deep gold hair immediately comes up to meet the Dark Lord.

"Can I help you sir?" The woman says and her brown eyes glance at me for a moment but return almost instantly to Voldemort.

"Yes. I'm here to pick up something I ordered a few weeks ago."

"May I ask your name sir?" She asks. There's something oddly familiar to this woman that I can't place within my mind. It's…disturbing...

"Yes, Tom Riddle, thank you." He says and a flicker of surprise flits through me. He actually gave them his real name? How could he know whether these people are trustworthy or not?

"Oh yes, Mr. Riddle I will fetch your parcel from the back. If I may say, it turned out magnificently."

"I shall see that for myself." He says and I see the woman give him a bow and slip quietly into the back of the store.

"So what did you have made?" I ask him as I look up at him in interest. He smiles down at me again but says nothing. He's infuriating…

The golden haired woman returns after a few moments carrying something wrapped up in brown paper in her arms. It isn't very large as it fits almost in the palm of her hand. "Would you like to see the item, Mr. Riddle?" She asks politely and glances in my direction once more.

"That I would." He says and the woman unwraps whatever is in the brown paper and unfortunately, he happens to block my view of whatever he is purchasing.

"This is precisely what I wanted. You've done an excellent job." He says, and for some reason, he appears to sound…happy.

"Thank you Mr. Riddle. And now for the payment…"

"Yes." Here I see him pull bag out of his robes and as he sets it on the counter, I hear a soft chinking sound. "Here are exactly seven hundred and fifty Galleons."

"Thank you sir. Would you like me to re-wrap your parcel for you?"

"That would be appreciated." He says and the woman bows and produces some different wrapping paper from under the counter. She quickly wraps the necklace up and hands it to Voldemort.

"Thank you," He says softly as he slips the item within his robes. He then turns and begins to walk toward the door. I follow him after I take one last look at the lady who is now looking at me with the most peculiar expression on her countenance. The moment I make eye contact with her, she smiles and slips into the back.

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The moment we come to the edge of Knockturn Alley, he pulls my cloak off my head, taps my forehead with his wand, and murmurs a spell while in the process of removing my glasses.

"What did you just do?" And why didn't I say anything against it?

"I corrected your eyesight and concealed your scar so you wouldn't get any odd stares." He says and we enter Diagon Alley. The people don't even give us a second look as we walk freely through the place.

"You needed robes, right?" He says after we exit Gringotts from withdrawing gold from my account. We then enter Madam Malkin's to get me some new sets of robes.

It appears that there is already someone with Madam Malkin and as I glance around the corner I see the back of a blond head and a woman, Madam Malkin, fitting the person for robes as she sticks them into the person whose back is turned to us. I should have known it was Malfoy. He always seems to appear in the oddest of places. But that means that since Lucius told me that his wife had just about given up with her son that he had… As I move forward and actually look around the corner of the wall, I see Lucius sitting in a chair looking irritated to an extent. He isn't even looking at his son.

"It's rude to stare Harry." I hear the Dark Lord say as he pulls me back to him by the collar of my robes. With a huff a try to yank free, but he holds me fast.

"It's rude to use force to impose your opinions." I tell him flatly.

"I'm not being rude. I am showing you that you need to be respectful since you obviously have no idea of the meaning of manners."

"But it's-" I begin but he cuts me off.

"I don't care. You will show respect."

"I am not your child, so don't treat me as if I am."

"Then be respectful." He concludes and releases my robes. With a scowl, I turn my back on him and fix my robes as I feel his smug smile even though I am unable to see his face.

"I still hate you." I mutter in a low voice.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and his hair brushes my cheek as I see him bend down out of the corner of my eye. "If you hate me so much, then stop thinking about kissing me." He whispers into my ear. The hand on my shoulder burns.

I flush in embarrassment and hear him laugh softly; his breath tickles my ear. I want to move away, but I find I can't. Or maybe I just don't want to. Damn his control over me. His laughter floats across my mind this time and makes me tremble but I still can't move away.

But then he straightens abruptly and pulls me forward so that we are now in view. I see Lucius turn and look at us but recognition crosses his face as he realizes who he is looking at. At me he smiles, but then as he looks up at the Dark Lord, something akin to shock covers his face but he gives no indication of moving. Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I walk over to Lucius and sit next to him while the Dark Lord chuckles in my mind again.

"I'm just getting my things for school. He-" I jerk my head in Voldemort's direction and he places a hand on my shoulder again as he comes to my side. "-Insisted on coming with me. And you're with him?" I indicate at Malfoy.

"Yes. He needed new robes. He's getting his textbooks later on today as well.

"He doesn't seem very enthusiastic about the fact that he's with you." I state flatly.

"Can you name a time when he's ever been enthusiastic? Or a time anyone has been excited when they've been with me?" Lucius asks tonelessly.

"Go stay with him for a spell."

"I highly doubt anything I do would ever please him."

I shrug and say nothing more and watch the younger Malfoy, who is nothing like his father, get fitted for his robes.

"Those robes are foul. Why is he getting them?" I ask softly as I fight the urge to laugh out loud.

"He likes them." Lucius says as if that explains everything. "But they are rather distasteful, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, I would have to say the robes are a bit revolting. Though, that is putting it lightly." I tell him with a snigger that I cut off abruptly as I feel the Dark Lord sink a hand into the back of my hair. All other thoughts are cut off from my senses, as I am acutely aware of his fingers playing in my raven locks. I have half a mind to swat his hand away, but that's only _half_ a mind.

_Stop it._ I tell him vaguely as I catch myself slipping into a daze. _We're in public._

_I'm not doing anything that is even remotely scandalous._ He tells me reprovingly. _You're so odd. But, that appears to be what I like about you. You're so shy. _He says serenely. His hand continues to stroke my hair.

I notice Lucius glance at me to see why I've suddenly become unmoving, and when he sees he sees the cause, he smiles, but it appears more like a smirk.

"Don't you dare say anything Lucius," I warn reproachfully, but he only waves me off like I haven't said anything at all. He looks up at the Dark Lord and they both smirk as if they're in some kind of inside joke.

_This isn't funny_, I tell him shortly.

_Yes, it is_, he says with a laugh. _Knowing exactly what infuriates you and effectively using that to my advantage is positively comical._

_You're revolting._

_Your rude comments don't affect me at all when I know for a fact that you don't mean them._

I curse rudely under my breath and see Malfoy turn around as Madam Malkin continues to stick pins in him. Just the sight of him is making it almost impossible to keep a straight face. He looks at me suddenly and I gaze back at him, my face an impassive mask. I raise a hand and make an extremely rude hand gesture a second later and his face twists in rage. But then his gaze slides to his father and one look from Lucius makes him turn back around almost instantly. I snicker to myself, but Lucius cuffs me on the head lightly.

"You know he can't retaliate, so don't make him angry."

"You sound like his girlfriend, Lucius." I tease and to my utter astonishment, Lucius' pale cheeks flush a very light pink. As I laugh softly, his face turns a darker shade and he bows his head so his blond hair falls over his face.

"All right, I'll stop. Sorry Lucius." I tell him quietly in apology.

"It's perfectly all right," He says to my surprise and he smiles a little in my direction seemingly as an afterthought.

I say nothing as my mind decides that it's time for yet another lecture on my manners. I curse at it and shove it away from my thoughts but not before it manages to tell me that I need to apologize to Voldemort for my rudeness to him earlier.

"Harry?" His voice cuts through my thoughts like a knife and I look up hastily. Lucius and Draco have left. How could I have not…noticed that…?

"What?"

"You can be fitted now. Go on."

_You stupid child, why weren't you paying attention? If you had, you could have seen the way that he was looking at you._

_I don't want to know how he looks at me! He makes me afraid of myself!_

_You don't like the feeling, do you? Because it shows that he goes underneath the surface?_

_I hate him!_

_That means **nothing**! _My mind hisses in fury.

…_I am unstable…I am not worth effort._

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"Well that was fun." He says as we return to the Manor. This time we returned using Apparation, which happened to be a great deal better on me. I can't stand choking on smoke.

"Speak for yourself." I mutter as dump my spell books onto the bed. I can swear my arms stretched out from carrying all those things.

He makes a reprimanding sound I glance over to him to see that he has a huge grin plastered on his face. "Why are you staring at me like that?" I ask bluntly. He smile recedes somewhat; I know that he's realized that he probably looked like an idiot with that ridiculous smile on his face.

"I got you something."

"Hm?" I ask as I return to my books. I certainly did not have this many last year…I wonder who is going to teach us for the Defense of the Dark Arts this year. Probably another hasbin…After all, one died, one had a memory wipe, one got fired, one was actually locked up in a trunk for nine months, and our last, foulest of them all, I remind myself with a bitter smile, got attacked by centaurs…Oh, the memories are as permanent as the scar on the back of my hand.

"I…got you a gift…in celebration of your sixteenth…um…" He trails off desperately as he sees that I'm paying no attention to him whatsoever.

"Harry, please, you can do that later." He says and I hear him as if from afar. Worried thoughts float into my mind, which causes my attention to become focused immediately.

"What is it Tom?" I ask as I gaze up at him. He looks off to the side and a half-thought drifts through my mind._ Please…let him like…_

"Did you need anything?" I ask with a small fragment of curiosity. Why would he be worried about what I like? I swear this man is even more out of his mind than from when we first met.

"I wanted to give you this." He says softly and he pulls the package that he bought in Knockturn Alley from within his robes. He then hesitantly sets out his hand for me to take it from him. I take it from him gently and begin to undo the wrapping paper.

"I...got it for your sixteenth birthday…I'm sorry it's late, but…it took awhile to make…If you don't like it, I can-"

"It's wonderful." After removing the paper, I find the most beautiful pendant I've seen in my entire life. I believe that the pendant is an emerald surrounded by what I think is goblin's wrought silver on a thin but strong silver chain. The silver surrounding the pendant appears to be a serpent of some kind.

I meet his ruby eyes and he looks away after a moment.

"You really like this?"

"I do. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." My face breaks into the most genuine smile I've ever created. "...Thank you." I murmur in a whisper.

_He's making you fall for him, _my mind says haughtily.

_No! I'm not falling for him! It's just-no one's ever-I'm-_

_Proof of his care: he got you a gift. You never accepted any before, so why now? _My mind declares scathingly.

_I-_

Currently, the Dark Lord seems to be staring fixedly at a point over my shoulder. "I'm glad you like it." He says and he carefully manages to avoid my eyes. I think if he had looked at me, he would have broken down in a heartbeat. He seems to become strangely vulnerable in my company…

"It's the best birthday gift I've gotten, more or less to say the only one. Does an owl count?"

His eyes search out mine. "No one's ever given you anything for your birthday?"

I tilt my head to the side after a moment of thought. "No, none that I can remember. Do you count a coat hanger as well?"

"I didn't know." He says quietly after a few seconds of silence

"I don't care. It is of little matter anyways." I mutter as I finger the pendant in my palm. The stone is cool and slips in between my hands as if it was water. A tiny smile plays on my lips as I turn and hand him the necklace. He looks bewildered for a moment until I feel his questing mind sliding in the clockwork that could be considered the make-up of my thoughts.

I brush back my hair from my neck and I feel his fingers brush my revealed skin as he attaches the necklace, which then slides down and settles on my chest. This causes my skin to blaze in response. For a few seconds I feel faint and weak-kneed as his hands remain on my shoulders but then he moves away, the warmth along with him.

The loss is staggering and the pain is lightning through my chest just as it was when I struck him in the dining hall. Though now, the anguish has nearly doubled and it makes me want to cry. My mind screams in agony revealing what I won't out loud. Why…Merlin, why does it hurt so much! What did I do?

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A.O.T.I.F.: Another cliffhanger. How _shocking _(chokes on apple).

I just realized that "they" could also be referring to Ron and Hermione. (this is an extension to what I responded to in the last chapter)

I'm sorry for the fact that this chapter was a bit boring and that it was completely off subject. But near the end it got a little better, yes?

Please review.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Harry Potter would never belong to someone who is part of a ward.

Disclaim her: Synch ratio zero.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, why aren't you in your grade school right now?

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: To ignore the facts does not change the facts.

Chapter 15: Penetration

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Why Merlin, why does it hurt so much! What did I do?

I distantly acknowledge that he's turned in my direction, almost as if he senses that something is amiss. I attempt to close my mind as best I can, hoping against hope that he won't do anything. I don't want him to do anything! It will prove that…that I'm weak! I don't want him in my thoughts!

Voldemort's at my side, he wants to touch me, but doesn't now what's wrong. I want to move away but his control over me suddenly enforces. I'm frozen.

"Harry?" He reaches out a hand to make contact with me.

"…Please…" The word escapes my lips through no account of my own and I want to scream in pain and frustration. That was not what I wanted to say, damn it!

A larger hand intertwines with my own and I sigh wearily as the contact comforts my strained nerves. I don't want his touch, but the power he retains over me causes me to submit to his will. I want to resist with all my spirit, but I can't…

His hand brushes my cheek and a moment later, I am enveloped in his arms. His hand in my hair sets me at ease and I lean against him for no particular reason. There is a murmur of something that I can't quite distinguish, but I find that I don't care about whatever it was. His touch…it's soothing to my senses. It smothers my raucous mind and I'm left with the union of ourselves within our heads. It feels…correct and I can't remember it in any other way at any other time…

But there is a small voice, miniscule even, that tells me that something is incorrect in this entire situation. This causes my mind to wake abruptly from its subdued stupor and begin to revive itself. I blink in attempt to rouse myself.

I can't describe the first emotion within my mind, but it's almost akin to horrified. I have no idea how we ended up this way, and it makes my mind and I terrified down to the bone. There is a blind panic in myself, and I want to shriek, but my voice is lost in the sea of our intertwining thoughts. How the hell does he do these things to me! I can't remember how I got here or what happened before this point! I HATE HIM!

I have my back toward him while he holds me within his arms. I admit that this might actually not have been so bad had I found we were clothed. But the fact of the matter is that from what I can tell, we're currently both bare and I have no idea how this happened! I want to curse at him, scream, hurt him in any way that could be possible, but the hold he maintains over me is imposed and I cannot do anything in retaliation! The urge to curse nearly gets out of hand…

He has an arm around me and I can tell that the bastard is sleeping from the way the grasp on myself remains loose. Oddly enough, I have my glasses on and I can see from where I lay, all the disfigurements upon my frame. He did this…he did this on purpose, I know he did. I don't want to see myself and I don't want him to see me. I'm a goddamn freak! I don't…know what I'll do if he wakes and I have to see him look at me. I don't want _anyone_ to look at me!

The arm he has around my side tightens unconsciously, almost as if he can sense my distress in his slumber. I want to shriek, rage, anything that will help me vent out the emotions tearing at myself. But I can't; his exploitation of our bond forces me not to react. Merlin, I need help…

He shifts, though maintaining his grasp on my body, and as he moves, I am suddenly profoundly aware of the feel of his skin on mine. I want to relax into him as the sensation is incredibly calming, but I know that I shouldn't and that I…can't.

_Nothing's going to happen if you fall asleep, you know,_ my mind slips in deviously. _It's not like he's going to molest you or anything._

_Yeah, sure. He's been trying to have sex with me this entire time, but he's not going to molest me. Who the hell do you think you're talking about?_

_He told you that he wouldn't force you._

_He's a liar. He would do anything to take me. And when he's satisfied, he'll…he'll leave me… _I say quietly.

_Do you really expect him to desert you? He's had the opportunity to kill you numerous times._

…_I hate him. _I whisper softly into the deep depths of my mind.

_That means absolutely nothing! _My mind answers angrily.

_I detest the way he makes me feel!_

_Because he makes you feel safe?_

_The things I think about, they're wrong! I don't like it! I shouldn't think about his touch! _I shout in aggravation.

_Just because you are beginning to believe that the emotion that you associate with him is not hate, does not mean you have to take your confusion out on him._

_God, you're annoying! _

_Because I am you? Because I am the inner part of yourself that you do not wish him to see? You are afraid of what he will think of the true you. You are weak._

_I KNOW! _Merlin, how I know it…It taunts me through all my waking moments. You reminded me of it constantly when you took me so it cemented itself to the inside of my skull. Of course I know that I'm weak. I'm no fool however out of my mind I may be.

I distantly feel the shift of his body weight as he nearly covers me with his unclothed body. Indecent thoughts wander into my mind though I am not sure whose they remain. They could be my own, as the barriers to the deeper parts of my mind that secure some of my more…shameful and embarrassing memories are down at the moment. But they most likely belong to him; he always seems to think of exceedingly rude things that involve the two of us in very compromising positions.

He murmurs something drowsily and I fight to relax myself and feign sleep. There is movement beside me and his arms are removed from my waist. The weight on the bed lifts and departs; the secure sensation I hadn't realized he gave me until it disappears.

My eyes instantly open and I find him not very far from me. He is turned away from me and on the edge of the bed and thus exposes none of his nakedness. The Dark Lord leans over so his frame is bent double and runs a spidery hand through his hair. Half-formed, weary thoughts drift into my mind and I have an odd feeling that he's…depressed. I have the urge to submerge myself within his mind, but do not want to in the event that I will find out things that I don't want to know.

I see his head turn slightly. "How do you feel?" He asks quietly, his tone colorless.

"Should I be feeling different?" I answer back with my voice as just as flat.

"No…never mind. It's nothing. Forget I asked."

"Don't give me that. Explain how I ended up naked with you and have no memory of it." I demand roughly as I sit up while retaining the covers on my lower body. The necklace he presented me is a cool weight on my chest.

"I didn't have sex with you."

He says it as if I was wondering about it. There isn't any reason to. My backside would on fire if we had indeed engaged in intercourse. I'm not stupid.

"No one said you were," He replies tiredly as he turns his gaze back where it had presided on the floor.

_He's hiding something, _my mind slips in suspiciously.

"Do you want me to give up the hold I have on you?"

"Will you actually let go?" I inquire dully.

"Yes." He responds after a moment.

"Why? You can do whatever you want to me with this control. Some would love to be able to do what you can do." What? Why the hell am I resisting to this! Stupid mind, why are you doing this to me!

"I don't want to control you. You have an independent will, it should be left to run free."

"You dominate others constantly and then talk to me of free will? Could you be more hypocritical?"

"I will be…whatever you want me to be. I am tired of fighting with you." I stare at the back of his head in utter disbelief. The Dark Lord is willingly giving in to Harry Potter? The world must be ending.

_Something is wrong…_My mind says slowly to me and I frown as I examine him more closely. Something _is_ amiss.

"What's…wrong?" I find myself asking hesitantly.

"Do you care?"

I bite the inside of my cheek and say nothing.

"That's what I thought." He says in a barely audible voice. There is a silence where I stare at his back and he seems to slump over farther. "I'm leaving."

For a moment the words don't completely register in my mind but then the impact of what he's said clicks. "What?"

"You heard me. You obviously don't want me, so I'm leaving. And you don't have to stay here if it's such a challenge for you. Go back to Grimmauld Place, I don't care."

"What…what are you talking about?" I see the Dark Lord raise a hand to his face and cover his eyes.

"You don't want to be here, so leave."

"Are you throwing me out?" I hiss unbelievingly.

"No, I am merely suggesting that you put yourself out of your misery in having to endure my company and go back to live by yourself as you seem to prefer that vastly."

"I…I can't believe you're actually kicking me out…I hate you." I whisper furiously.

"If you dislike me so much, yet another reason for you to leave. I'm sick of this. You and your fucking self pity and the complaining about things _that don't even matter_, make want to retch!" His voice begins to rise drastically at these words. "I'm fed up with dealing with all your damn resistance to my actions. If you opened your mind to me and accepted what I keep telling you, then you'd fucking realize that I'm not lying to you!" He snarls in anger.

"Shut up." I say quietly.

"No, it's you who needs to shut up! I've dealt with your insults and your anger and any other person would have become insane by now! I can't deal with you anymore! I thought I could get you to trust me, I thought that if I gave you enough time that you would stop hating the world and everyone around you but it seems that you can't! I don't give a damn anymore! You need to get a fucking grip!"

"You don't understand!" I shout angrily. Pain strikes deeply in my chest and my breath comes out in a surprised gasp. What…is this pain that ensues whenever I cause him to become upset?

"HOW CAN I UNDERSTAND YOU WHEN ALL YOU DO IS YELL AT ME! STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF!" He roars in fury. My scar suddenly blazes as the pain within myself increases. My own features darken in anger as he stands and turns to meet me. His face is twisted in utter rage and his ruby eyes appear as if they are glowing. I pay no attention to his bare body.

"I hate you," I declare angrily.

"IF YOU HATE ME SO MUCH THEN JUST LEAVE!"

"NO!" I shout.

"…What?" His voice drops to a whisper but it is all the more deadly this way. I repress a shudder as he glares at me heatedly.

"I said that I'm not leaving!" I yell. Wait…what? Why am I fighting him on this? Why? I'm just falling apart at the seams…

"I've changed my mind; I'm not giving you a choice. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" He screams and indicates to the door.

"**NO**!"

"_No_? You think you can resist me? Don't you think that I won't throw you out of here if I have to, because I _will_!"

"I don't want to go back to Grimmauld Place!"

"I don't give a damn!" He bellows. He's now panting through the extent of his anger.

"I'll stay if I want to! You can't control me!"

"Really?" His smile reveals far too many teeth for my liking and it's a difficult fight for my face to remain impassive. His eyes glint unpleasantly and I grasp the necklace at my neck unconsciously. It remains cold within my fingers.

"You can't hurt me! I'll fight back!" I retort stubbornly.

He approaches me suddenly and I move back slightly in apprehension. He reaches out and yanks me to him in a fluid motion that I am unable to resist through the hold he maintains on myself.

"You think you've known hurt? You want me to cause you pain? You don't know the meaning of pain." He mutters harshly close to my ear as his hand melts through my chest. My mouth opens in a silent shriek; he's taken my voice away. The sheer agony of what he is doing is _appalling_!

My eyes widen in fear. How is he able to do this! He's griping my soul! Oh God, make him let go! It hurts like nothing I've ever experienced! How can he do this! Make him let go! Please, make him let go!

He grasps my soul with his hand and grips it tightly as if he means to break it. Screams erupt throughout my mind as my body undergoes the feeling as if it's going to collapse on itself.

Let me die, someone just let me die, I don't want this! Death is nothing compared to this! Death then chooses to offer me a hand but as I blink, the Dark Lord slaps it away in fury. Why won't he let me go? I want death! I want out; I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

"This is pain. Do you feel this pain?" He whispers next to my ear as his hand grips my core and I screech throughout my mind. "Let me hear you scream Harry. Show me you understand this."

My voice returns through his bidding and all that remains intact within my mind is the screams that go on forever. Anguish encircles…anguish…There is no…release…

Then, there is nothing.

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A.O.T.I.F.: Since you people are nice and gave me reviews, you deserve another chapter! This is also because I got the exam I took last week back and got an excellent grade! (cheer)

And about the chapter, well, you all knew this was going to come eventually.

Please review.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Harry Potter was not one of the things they confiscated when I went to the nut farm.

Disclaim her: Mankind exists because it has the will to live.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children go play with your toys and leave.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Opportunities are never lost. Someone will take the ones you miss.

Chapter 16: Awareness

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Then, there is nothing.

There is no feeling in what I am not sure is my limbs. A cold sensation throbs at my chest and my face lies in what I think is a liquid. My eyes remain closed and I am unsure if I wish to see what has happened to myself. The thoughts that remain in my mind are sluggish; most are dead.

Should I open my eyes?

I slit my eyes through a supreme effort and find that I am actually upright. The liquid that my face lies in is scarlet and seems to be flowing through my mouth and it blurs the sight of one of my eyes.

I can hear indistinct whispers close to me and I am unsure what to do. More thoughts fall to the ground in my mind, lifeless. Death is nowhere to be seen. I cherished the fact that Death was in reaching distance this time…Should I be saddened at this…?

"Yes…" A voice whispers. A hand on my head, caressing my hair. The touch is dull and soft and I cannot bother to move; my mind won't guide my body's functions. Fingers ghost over the scars on my wrist and the back of my hand as it lays limp somewhere below my head. I believe that I can feel arms slide around my waist and I do not understand why I can't identify the sensation. My mind's thoughts are lacking energy in the recognition of these actions.

I am shifted, laid down from what it appears. I have no resistance in my body, it remains slack; my eyes open. Liquid trickles out of the side of my mouth and slips down my neck.

A pair of ruby eyes gaze down at me, worried and afraid. Thoughts are ambiguous and difficult to understand. I…might have known those eyes somewhere. Where have I seen them?

A hand wipes the liquid from my face though it still flows out from the corner of my parted lips. It settles in my lungs with every breath out and my mind won't connect with my body to gag reflexively as it gathers in my throat.

My mind is weary, but I can recognize the tentative piece of awareness that reaches out to my unresponsive spirit in the attempt to connect to me. …A merging of ruby and emerald…Yes, this I understand; this I _crave_.

I blink, this possibly being the only motor function that I have retained through his blatant penetration of all that remained unknown to him about myself. There is scarlet in my eye, but glasses nowhere to be found. I am drained far too much to actually ponder their whereabouts. The substance that takes residence within my chest is a silent pool.

"Are you all right?"

I still wish to die if that is what he is referring to. But death won't come; it has washed away with my return to awareness. Death, I adored you but you left me to his mercy! Why must he rob me of every pleasure? I detest his very essence.

"I'm sorry," he says softly as he leans over me, his ruby eyes weary. "I shouldn't have done this to you." I don't want to comprehend his voice. He touched me where no one should ever receive contact. I feel contaminated and used, more so than I ever did with you.

There is a short silence. "No, I was angry. I wanted you to feel how you've been making me feel."

He's lying; no one could _constantly_ feel the way I did when he made contact with my soul and remain sane. It's not possible…

…Wait. Isn't he already out of his mind?

He frowns as he clears the blood from my eye. "What is wrong?"

I merely blink up at him, both of us having a total disregard of our naked selves. The Dark Lord abruptly reaches out and cups my cheek in his hand. The burn that usually accompanies his touch is merely dull warmth that flows through my body gradually and puts feeling back into my cold legs and arms. And the only thing that I can remotely distinguish besides the fading feeling of warmth is the searing ache within my chest. The fluid that is in my lungs is disrupted as I try to take in a quiet breath through my parted lips…

The Dark Lord calls his wand to him wordlessly and it flies into his hand. His brow furrows as he places the tip at my chest. As he murmurs a spell, I fill the liquid vanish from my lungs and my body heaves as I choke on air. He lays my head upon his shoulder as I cough up and splatter blood with another substance that I cannot identify onto his skin and myself. The gagging subsides after a few minutes and I realize that he has actually been stroking my hair gently for a point now.

"That's better, isn't it?" Voldemort says quietly as he holds me tighter to him. The dead thoughts within my mind gather dust. The Dark Lord lays me back down and I see that scarlet and black covers his right side. I know the red is blood, but what is the black?

"Now, speak for me."

I don't want to speak to him. He makes me sound as if I am his pet. I am property. It's just like before, only now I can't do anything in retaliation.

"I didn't mean it that way."

_I still dislike you_,I mutter within my mind.

"That's all right," he whispers as he slides down to my side and tugs my limp body into his arms. "You will regain use of your body before long as the necklace I gave you blocked most of the effects that you could have gotten from my soul penetration. Don't worry."

_No one said that I was worried._

**No one said you were**, Voldemort hisses and I know I would have shivered if that were possible to do right now. **But I'll worry for you.**

"…I don't want you to worry…" I say quietly and the hand in my hair halts. As a matter-of-fact, I don't want him to do anything. "I'm…awkward…and strange…why do you say you care?" There is no need to raise a barrier against him anymore. He's seen…all there is to see. There's no point in trying to hide from him.

Fingers settle on my neck and the Dark Lord presses his lips onto my shoulder. "We've been over this…many times. I care just because I choose to care. That's all."

"That's not a reason." I retort sharply.

"All right, I care because you are more like me than you would like to admit."

"But that's not true," I whisper as he intertwines our hands. I don't want to submit, but there's no more resistance inside me to give out…He's torn most of my denials to pieces.

"You know it is." He replies with certainty. He is silent for a few minutes as he strokes my hair once more. "You're tired again." He observes quietly.

"Very tired." I respond slowly. I should hope sleep will be a release from him.

"But you don't want to sleep because you fear that I will leave you in your slumber."

_Everyone always leaves. _My mind whispers in affirmation. I was beginning to wonder when it would return to the attentive state of mind. For a few blissful moments, I thought it was done for, but this is obviously not the case.

"I've never leave you when you wish for me to stay."

I don't care what he says because I still don't trust him. I will only submit because my options have run their course, not because I want to. I do not have to place my faith in him. "You don't have to. It matters little to me of what you do."

"I'll stay because I _want_ me to." He answers.

"I'm weak, aren't I?" I murmur as the Dark Lord strokes my cheek gently. There is no burn, just a faint warmth that accompanies his touch. It's beginning to lull me into a stupor that I can't seem to fight off.

"No, you are just in pain."

"There is pain?" I ask halfheartedly.

"Yes, but I've blocked it. That is why you feel numb."

Hm, he's blocking suffering. I should be accusing him of lying, shouldn't I? Liar…such a liar…I don't like him, he makes me feel bad about myself. Someone shoot me while I'm still struggling not to drown in the spells he holds over me. I know if I let him pull me under, I'll never get away. I don't want to yield, but again, I have no fight left in me…

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Another…waking…there are vague shapes in the back round, voices I cannot recognize through the delirium that fogs my senses. Blurry shapes that dissolve in nothingness when they come to close…this is fever. A burning, a burning that will not relent, a fire that consumes my being, this is my sickness. A cool feeling on my forehead, and my fatigued eyes slip shut…

Pain through every cell, agony with every breath. Obscure objects form beings I cannot define. Serpents coil and strike, thus creating a pain beyond pain. The cool feeling comforts me once more, but I force my eyelids not to close, no matter what the anguish comes to. …I recognize sounds that appear serpentine as well; they are soothing. There are…tears? Why I must...I cry?

Exhaustion is prominent; demanding I fall to the realm of unconsciousness and quiet. But there is no chance of peace with this burn that spirals for eternity…I am weary, but I cannot rest. Something...needs to be done, but I do not know the purpose of which it concerns. A voice whispers at my ear, telling me to forget; that what I think of is unimportant…

An awakening…

…And another.

All returns to consciousness unite.

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"You're finally awake." A statement, not a question.

My eyes are half closed, but I can see that he is not far from me. "So this isn't a hallucination?" I murmur quietly. It's a pity it couldn't be a figment of my imagination, for I can make those kinds of things turn my way in an instant.

"You were very ill."

"I know." I say. I want to sit up, but my body still won't respond to my commands. However, I find that I can move two of the fingers on my left hand.

"But this wasn't just out of anywhere. You were sick for a long time, but you told no one."

"They wanted the Golden Boy perfect, they didn't care what happened to him as long as he was a good boy and kept his mouth shut. Surely you must have realized that?" I retort sharply. The Dark Lord moves toward me and submerges a hand within my hair. The contact is…strangely soothing. Merlin, I don't want to feel this way!

"They're all a bunch of idiots," Voldemort says crossly as he traces my scar with a finger. Goosebumps rise on my skin and my body shudders. Damn…it…

Words break off my tongue through no accord of my own. "Why is it when you touch me…I…" I break off in embarrassment as he chuckles quietly.

"You mean you haven't figured it out?" His voice sounds genuinely surprised and I can feel the smile that forms upon his features.

"No, we're all not as smart as the Dark Lord." I retort irritably. He's so arrogant.

"All right, no need to get worked up over nothing." He bends down so he is nearly touching me and locks our eyes. I could drown in those eyes… "The reason why I'm so persistent about you accepting the fact that we will be together no matter what you say is only because you and I are soulmates. It hurts when you and I aren't together, doesn't it?"

"That's ridiculous. The things you come up with are so far-fetched; I can't believe I listen to you sometimes."

He sighs and pulls back. "Please don't fight me on this."

"You actually expect me to believe you?" I ask, astounded. Who does he take me for!

"Yes."

"God, you're stupid." I say as he frowns. "What, are you going to throw me out?" I ask tersely.

"Maybe I should." He says while his gaze drifts off to the side.

"Go fuck yourself." I hiss resentfully.

His face blanches severely. "Any other person would have slapped you for that comment."

"Hit me if it will make you feel like the bigger man."

"I'm not going to."

"You're not afraid, are you?" I ask spitefully. My mouth would have formed into a smile if my body would function like it should.

"There is no reason to fear you. However, you have every reason to fear me."

"I am not afraid of you." I retort firmly.

"Really? Part of you still thinks that I'm going to take advantage of you. Part of you still is distrustful my presence. You still think that I'm going to hurt you."

"Why wouldn't you?" I ask as I flex the fingers of my left hand. I've finally regained some control.

"Damn it Harry, because I care about you! For some reason, God knows why, I do!"

My eyes narrow dangerously as he says this. "I don't care what you feel for me because I know you're lying! I still hate you!"

His expression turns the color of parchment. "You don't mean that." He whispers. Why is he…? He's never reacted so strongly when I told him I hated him before. Why is he so affected by my words now?

"I do. I've told you this numerous times." I hiss nastily.

"I don't…hate you."

"Well that's not of concern to me." I state indifferently.

"Stop…stop saying these things!"

_Stop doing this to him, he's upset! _My mind shouts abruptly

_What should I care if he's upset? He's a liar!_

_Look what you've done to him!_ My mind yells once more.

I refocus and place my attention onto him.

The Dark Lord looks terrified. "Why do you always say these things to me? Why do you have to be so cruel? All I try to do is protect you, and you just can't seem to accept that."

"Why do you insist on lying to me?"

"I'm not. And if you can't trust my words, then that isn't my problem." His face abruptly sets into an impassive mask and all traces of his distress are wiped away. "If you have such a problem with me, you know where the door is."

We're back at square one. Why don't I want to leave?

"Well?" He asks impatiently.

"I'm not leaving."

"You know what, I don't even care anymore. You want to be alone, then be alone. No one's going to stop you. I'm sick of this." And with that, he draws a pair of robes around himself and leaves the bedroom, slamming the door shut as he goes.

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A.O.T.I.F.: This chapter was an absolute nightmare. I can't believe how long it took me

to finish! And the amount of text I had to pull out! Goodness…

My best friend decided that she would tell me _now_ that she was moving at the end of the week. So I'm just peachy, as is apparent from the content of this chapter.

Special thanks to Helm as that was a lovely review you gave me! (smile)

Also thanks to Celestreal for breaking me on exactly one hundred reviews! I know you're mad because I told you that a bunch of text was going to get ripped out.

I know Ron, Hermione, and Severus haven't had a very large role yet, but they will have much interaction with Harry when he returns to school.

And Sirius, well he's with Remus, but at this point is not in the Manor.

Please review.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: (hums softly) Another reason of why I am unable to own Harry Potter: I have _visiting_ hours.

Disclaim her: Light, in the absence of eyes, illuminates nothing.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children why are you _inside_ when you should be _outside_ with your friends at the playground? Go away!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Don't carry a grudge. While you're carrying the grudge around, the other guy's out dancing.

Chapter 17: Contemplation

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"What did you do?"

"I did nothing." I ground out, my fingers digging into my opposite hand.

"You must have done something. He's been in an extremely foul mood for the last week."

"I did nothing." I retort crossly once more. This pain in my chest is inhuman and makes me unbelievably irritable.

"Come now, tell me what happened." Lucius says gently as I swear as the hurt makes me feel as if I've been choked. As he continues to stroke my hair, I lean against him and my body relaxes some. He found me in the den earlier cursing to myself and decided to keep me company even though I thoroughly protested against it.

"He deserted me."

"Did he now?" He doesn't even have the decency to sound surprised.

"Yes, he did. And don't act shocked, it's fine, because he abandoned me just like I said he would."

"You must have done something to cause this."

"Why do you immediately assume it was me?" I ask sharply.

"I'm not. It's just that you can't control your temper sometimes." Lucius says softly as I tense at his side from his words and the asphyxiating agony that shoots through abdomen from my chest.

"Oh, I can't, can't I?" I ask with a tremendous amount of control forced into my voice.

"No, you can't. You say things that are very cruel in your anger and words contain much power."

"Stop lecturing me Lucius, I'm tired."

"Every time we meet you are exhausted. What have you been doing?"

"I can't sleep," I mutter as my face burns.

"Why not?"

I say nothing and dig my fingers into my palm. I will not tell him that the reason that I lie hours awake in the Dark Lord's bedroom is because the Dark Lord is not beside me. He is the only one who makes the pain go away! It's sickening!

"You don't have to tell me, but I will find out eventually." Lucius murmurs above my head. I wish the sofa that we sit on would swallow me up so this shame will disappear from me.

"I'm repulsive," I whisper into the folds of his robes.

"What?" His voice sounds surprised and he stiffens.

"I can't sleep because he's not with me! He stays in another bedroom and I am alone!" I blurt out suddenly.

"I thought you hated him."

"Don't tell me what I said!" I exclaim violently.

"You miss his presence." Lucius states quietly.

"NO!" Yes, I do. Merlin, why?! Why can't I be normal, even if it is only a meager amount?!

You do. And you are afraid." Lucius says miserably, as he brushes a few stray locks of hair from my face.

"No, I'm not. There is no reason to feel fear." I'm not afraid! I may be weak, worthless, and a slut, but I am not afraid! Never!

"If you wish to leave us, he will not stop you." Lucius admits sadly.

I know. It's because he never cared to begin with. He never wanted me, never needed me. I was just…an ineffective pawn and I wish to be knocked from the game. But no one will let me die. I have no purpose, yet they choose to condemn me to this useless life where existing is nothing. It's all the same and I am, as always, pathetic.

"Lucius?"

"What is it?" He asks absently as he plays with my hair.

"Do you think I should leave?"

"Do you think you should go back?" A question answered with a question. Typical of him.

I do not wish to. I wish to be far away from the lies and the anguish and yet, I am still in pain. I am reminded of this as it twists in my chest like a beast. "I don't want to."

"Then stay." He makes it sound so simple.

"He hates me."

"You torment him with your denials and it frustrates him, but he does not hate you."

"I only tell him the truth."

"Truth is subjective." He admonishes quietly

I don't want to talk to him about the Dark Lord anymore. It gives me a headache and increases the ceaseless ache that mutates and splits within my chest whenever I think of him. "I want to sleep." But I can't; he won't let me. I know this is in retaliation for the things I said to him. He's making me suffer for what I did. Damn him!

"I'll leave you then." Lucius says as he rises slowly and straightens his robes. "Perhaps I'll see you again soon."

"Yes, I suppose." He smiles blankly and is gone a moment later. I sigh noiselessly and attempt to stand up without having my legs tremble. I regained most of the control over my body a few days ago, but I do not understand why it's such a trouble to function properly. I am thankful that Lucius knows nothing of this.

I fall back to the sofa with a thud and lie down as much as I am able to. I highly doubt it, but maybe…sleep will come soon.

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Is this a dream? I do not usually dream abstract things anymore; most times it is just nightmares. …Yes, it is a dream. For only here can I be unrestrained and uncaring.

I sit on a bed in a room much like the Dark Lord's; only this one is slightly smaller. The Dark Lord himself is writing away at the desk that also takes residence in this space that mind has projected into this dream universe.

"Why are you here?" The Dark Lord asks quietly. "I do not want to speak with you. Leave, now."

Is he talking to me?

"I said, go."

"What is this?" I ask confusedly.

"What do you think it is? You're dreaming and have entered my mind unknowingly. But I do not want you here."

"Why am I here?"

"Why are you asking me?" He has still not lifted his eyes to meet mine. "You don't want to listen, and you certainly don't want to care."

"Tell me!" I order roughly.

"You are in no position to be making demands. After all," He lifts his head and I would scream if that were even possible. Oh dear God. "I am you. You cannot make yourself tell you something that you, yourself do not have an answer to."

A face with no face. Features that are not features. He's me. He's everything but the eyes! Just…ruby eyes that make me want to call on Death. But it won't come. It won't give me…mercy. It stands just beyond reach with an unwavering determination.

The being that takes on my features stands and smiles at me; the false smile I've given countless times to others. "But I have lied. You are in your _own_ head, talking to _yourself_, to _your_ consciousness. You have given me, your collection of thoughts and what remains of your sanity, human like form."

No! I am not this! I could have never created this!

"But you are. You and I are both fake. You have an empty spirit that lacks fundamental requirements. I fill the spirit to replace what has been lost. Together we form nothingness."

Please let me scream! Let me make some kind of sound in protest!

"He won't come and you know this no matter how much you deny it. He won't help you this time. You are alone."

"I was always alone! This makes no difference!" My mind walks to me at these words and presses me down on the bed so I am pinned beneath it. Ruby gazes into emerald.

"Touch me. Touch me as you wish to him."

"I don't think about that!" I shout wildly.

"You are so stupid. I am made up of your thoughts, I AM what you think of."

"No, you're not! I am me, and you are no one!" I yell desperately.

"I am yourself." The being whispers as it flicks its tongue out and tastes my lips. "My, my. You reek of him. His essence covers you like a sheet." It murmurs quietly as it begins to unbutton my robes.

The creature smiles at my fear of the realization of what is to come. "Yes, you always loved creating panic in others. A fetish you've obtained over time isn't it? Well, do you like when someone else creates terror?"

"No." I whisper almost inaudibly. The life form traces the scar from the Gryffindor blade on my now exposed chest while the pendant lies defiantly on my skin. The being restrains my actions so solidly, I am unable to stir. Just…like he does.

"It is agreeable that you do not try to resist even though you can't. You're pathetic enough as is."

I say nothing as it pushes the robes off my shoulders.

"Yet, I love you. You are incredibly unstable and as delicate as glass, and I love you."

I have no idea how we've both been reduced to nakedness. This is madness. This is…myself.

"Hence, love. It seems you are a smart child after all."

"It's going to hurt as it did with Dumbledore, isn't it?" I ask quietly with acceptance. I obviously can't do anything to prevent this. Yes, I am weak.

"No, child you know nothing. It only hurt you because he wanted to hurt you. Unification with another is supposed to be gratifying." There is a pause where silence looks over us. "Do you want me to become him for the duration?"

"No." I reply straight away. "That is horrid."

"And what we are about to do-" An arm slips around my waist and draws me up. My head lies on the being's shoulder. "-Isn't?"

"If you were him, that would be exploitation. It's wrong."

"The thought of something being wrong is merely a concept devised from people who wish to exert control. You need to trust."

"How can I trust when everyone lies? I cannot form interactions with others as I am afraid of others' betrayals and the things that form them into the shapes that they choose to take!"

"He accepts you for who and what you are."

I cannot trust him. For him to tell me "truth" would be for my life to be stripped to the essentials and that would probably cause me to die. I want to die, but I don't want to die in the realization of truth. But even so, Death lurks on the corners of my eyes, teasing.

"Yes, it might make you pass. In the event of this, I will not take you. That would be cruel."

"You are kind."

"I am you, so you are kind. Please remember this."

"How could I forget?"

"With all the memories that pile up in your head, you've forgotten, more likely suppressed, many of your accounts in this life."

"I don't like remembering."

"If you remembered then you would realize that there are some things that aren't what they appear to be."

"Him?" I inquire dully. The creature traces a familiar pattern on my back and I shudder.

"No. I speak of the one whose name I fear. The one who has taken you apart and reassembled you, but has left out key pieces in the reconstruction of yourself, thus altering your perceptions of the world. The one who you dream of, and scream about in the silence."

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There is agony beyond agony once more and the urge to scream to vent out this feeling is great. I know he is doing this to me and that this is my retribution for all that I have done.

_Go to him and relieve this pain. _My mind advises.

_I will never- _Pain tears at my side, and I know that if I open my mouth, I'm going to retch up blood. Damn it!

_You'll die if you do not go to him. _

_I will not go to him out of this weakness! _I shout angrily. Again, anguish attempts to rip me to pieces.

_You cannot prevent this. This is coming from what he told you earlier and you should have believed him then. Now look where it has gotten you._

Through no accord of my own, I find myself rising to my feet and limping to the door of the sitting room. I am forced to lean heavily on the wall as I then begin to walk down the hallway. The pain is overwhelming and I wish it to end. However, he is the only means for this to stop and I _do not_ want to go to him.

It all returns to him. He requires me to depend on him though I strive for independence. I hate him, but I need him. He's the _crutch_ that enables me to function.

I reach the master bedroom, which he has currently deserted and left to me, and wrench open the door with as much force that I am able to. Liquid has somehow managed to escape my lips and now runs down my neck to wet my robes. Anguish pounds my chest with every heartbeat of my body.

But it seems…this isn't the master bedroom; it's his room. And the person in question is sitting at a desk. He looks up at the noise, and his eyes narrow as he rests his eyes onto my frame.

"What do you want?" The words are harsh, but that is no matter as I am unable to concentrate very well. The floor is no longer solid and I am spinning downwards, as if into a drain. The world is a mass of merging colors that seek no end until they reach my eyes.

"It hurts…" I manage to moan as agony cleaves me straight though. My fingers feel moist, as if a liquid runs down them. As I glance down, I see that blood has pushed out from under my nails and is dripping to the ground, soaking the carpet.

"And?" He sounds so unconcerned as I stand before him washed with suffering. Even…my soul burns. God, let it end.

"Please…" …I can't scream. My voice won't let me.

"I'm not going to help you."

Wave after wave…please let me die. Death, why won't you embrace me with your icy fingertips?

"Death is escape. I am holding it away from you." He says with finality.

Splitting, stabbing pain slices through my chest and I give a soft cry as I fall to my knees, a hand pressed firmly to my chest. It also feels damp and I see that scarlet covers my fingers. It feels…as if my chest has opened and my soul is seeking a way to push it's way out! What…is this?! Make it stop! If there is a god, _make him stop this!_

"No, I will not give you release." He murmurs quietly. **Suffer. I wish to see you suffer.**

"I wish I was dead!" I shriek as another surge of agony chokes me. Scarlet is heaved onto the floor in the vain attempt to take in air.

**You will not die.** He hisses in a whisper, sounding oddly close to me. There is a roaring in my ears and the floor is closing in on me…scarlet splashes the floor once more as I gag.

"But I want demise…" I wheeze as the suffering begins to wrap around my soul; a snake throttling it's prey. I scream as the coils tighten and begin to slowly impale my essence.

"No, you want love. Yet, you do not wish to give it out or receive it." He says quietly, impassive.

NO! I don't want _anything_ from him!

"If you want me to assist you, then you will not resist anymore from this point forward. That is my only offer."

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A.O.T.I.F.: So…okay.

Thank you Howl for another review that was very thorough.

Please review.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and I suffer no relation whatsoever.

Disclaim her: Visible forms are not inherent in the world, but are granted by the act of seeing.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Dumbledore, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, at your age, you shouldn't even be on the Internet!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Blowing someone else's candle out does not make yours shine brighter.

Chapter 18: Obstruction

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There shouldn't be a choice in the matter! This is insane!

"No, it is reason. If you submit, then you will understand what I have been trying to tell you all along."

I refuse be manipulated in such a way!

"You have no choice."

"I…will…" Blood splatters my robes and the carpet as I choke once more.

"Your will is strong, but it is no match for what will destroy you if you do not relent."

Pain surrounds my soul as the snake twists and suffocates my being. "You'll…hurt me…even more…if…I give in!"

"There is no reason to harm you. So what will it be?"

Tears stream down my face as my mind collapses on itself. Submission is…is….

"Fine." I rasp with liquid in my mouth. Scarlet splashes the floor as I finally give up any resistance that remains in my body. But I don't hit the ground.

"That's my boy." The Dark Lord whispers close to my ear as he gathers me to him before I hit the floor. The pain…the pain washes away as if it had never been there to begin with.

I shift slightly and his grip tightens severely. "You will not resist me, curse me, strike me or in any manner do anything else against me. You will shut your eyes and rest. When you wake, we will talk."

He assumes…that there was endurance left…

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When I wake, I find that he is cradling me protectively within his arms. I cannot understand why all fight has left my being. This is…very…strange.

"Do you want me to explain this?"

I want to strike him, but nothing will respond to my commands. I'm a disgrace to my name.

"I will put it simply. You and I are soulmates, meaning that together we form one singular being when completely bonded. It pains us both when we are not together, you far more from the fact that you are the Submissive partner in this union."

It figures as much. Harry Potter never could stand up for himself or fight back. He always needed someone else to defend him. But this is not to say that I believe him. Not at all.

"I know you loathe the idea of having sex with anyone, especially me for that matter, but at some point we will have to consummate the bond we share. You will not be able to leave my presence otherwise." He sighs softly and intertwines his hand with my own. Shivers travel up my spine at the contact and warmth gathers in my chest. I exhale in contentment. This is so wrong on so many countless levels.

"Will you let me make love to you?" He asks in a whisper.

"No." I whisper just as softly. Someone kill me while I still retain a portion of my sanity because I'm going to go completely out of my mind soon enough. He does this to me, maybe unaware of the fact, maybe on purpose. I'm breaking apart, little by little.

"That's okay." He says in acceptance. There isn't any disappointment behind the words.

"Do you say you care just because you are made to by this arrangement?"

"No."

"Then why?" I ask flatly. His mind brushes mine for a moment and there is resignation in his thoughts. He…doesn't want to fight.

"Because I just do; I don't know why. And all I ask is for you to let me care for you. You don't have to like me; all I want is to help you. You're tearing at the seams and you won't let anyone mend you."

"That's because I can't be fixed." I reply dully as I listen to my mind hum faintly. Where have I heard that song before?

"Will you let me try?"

"Why?" I ask in a low voice. This song that repeats itself within my mind is…very distracting. My eyes widen in realization. Wait…I know…!

"What is it?"

"Dumbledore's in my head." I shout suddenly. This is insane! How the hell are you doing this through Fawkes' _phoenix_ song!

"What are you talking about? There was never anyone else in your head when I was in it."

"He's…he's in my mind. " Damn you! Why didn't I notice this before! There is soft, cold laughter in my mind and I nearly shriek in an unconnected pain that comes out of nowhere. What is this!

I feel myself being pulled into my consciousness. NO!

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"Hello Harry." Oh God. "I've found you at last. It's been so hard to connect with you as something has been blocking me from your mind. Where have you been hiding?"

God, let me…let me SCREAM!

"Tell me."

I want to back away, I want to back away! Someone help me! You stand close to me, smiling, as I fight the urge to collapse upon myself. My legs seem to be stuck to the floor as I can feel myself begin to shake uncontrollably.

"I promise I won't hurt you." Tears gather in the corners of my eyes at the words. Lies on top of lies! You caused me more suffering than any one person could ever experience.

My hands rise and press against my chest and I grasp the necklace he gave me. It's watery within my fingers…

"I've missed you."

I can feel my face twist in horror and it takes a supreme effort to not retch. This whole situation is repulsive! You take a step toward me, somehow having a human form in my mind. And the moment you does this, screams erupt in my mind, terrified and panicked cries. I cannot move an inch…

"Come back with me Harry, please."

NO! I _won't_!

Your face warps into something that could be considered concerned. NO! I don't want this! Get out of my head! "Why won't you talk to me? Are you afraid?"

My lips part and black liquid slips from my mouth. I'm frightened! Someone help me! Anyone, I don't care who, someone just take me away from this!

You take another step toward me, and my whole being tries to cave in. Incomprehensible screeching ricochets off the walls of my mind in the pain that you, through now apparent reason, cause me. And I am unable to stop you from coming toward me…

And then…and then you're so close, if you reached out, you could wrap your arms around my neck and strangle me dead. But I can't cry out or make any protest…I can't do anything. But even if I could function, I couldn't fight back because you'd bring my resistance down as if it were nothing.

"Come with me Harry." I fall to the ground as my limbs finally give out and you reach out as if to touch me. I shut my eyes in fear while bringing up my hands to cover my face. I mustn't cry!

There is suddenly a horrid pause followed by the awful sound of flesh hitting flesh.

"Don't you dare touch him." My…mind? Oh, I must have died and gone insane…But Death, why can't I see you and your faithful hovering over me?

"Who are you? Why have you taken Harry's form?" I don't risk opening my eyes to see what has happened.

"Leave him be." My mind says in a deadly whisper. "You will not harm him."

"Who are you?"

"I am nothing to anyone, but to you I am everything that Harry doesn't represent. He won't fight back, but I _will_. Leave his mind."

"I will bring him back with me, you cannot stop me. Whatever it is that you are, you're just as weak as he is." You say harshly, biting off the words as if they hurt you a great deal.

I open my eyes to see my human-formed mind glance back at me. The gaze is solid and determined and I am surprised I don't recoil. Yes, this is what I am, weak. The eye contact is unbroken for a few seconds, artificial ruby gazing into the glassy emerald. The pendant…beats…with the rhythm of my heart. What _did_ the Dark Lord give me…?

But in that short time of distraction, you choose to make your move. My mind gives a wail of pain as it is knocked off its feet and it slides a few yards away from me, stunned.

"NO!" I yell and make to reach out for it even as pain takes me in its hold, but your arm swiftly goes out and catches my wrist in a blur. I am trapped in your steel grip and no matter how much I try to pull away, no matter how much I struggle; you maintain your hold on me effortlessly.

"Harry, you didn't think I'd let you go that easily, did you? You knew you would always be my little slut." You pause, and your voice loses much of its false pleasantness. "We've been apart far too long, my pet. You seem to have forgotten who the master is in this relationship. I think it's time you were reminded."

My eyes widen in comprehension and I begin to shriek at the top of my lungs. NO! NOT AGAIN!

"Cry all you want, it won't stop this." You say over my wails. "But I advise you to stop struggling unless you want me to hurt you more than is necessary."

"I HATE YOU!" I scream once more.

"Such language. You knew to never speak to me this way before." You murmur quietly and turn me around forcefully as I shriek and try to pull away fruitlessly. "Don't make me whip you boy," you say abruptly as I give a rather violent jerk of your arm.

My struggles and shrieks cease immediately out of fear of the forthcoming pain. I don't need any more scars on my back, or anywhere else for that matter. And there is no hope in trying to scream; no one's going to help me, not even the Dark Lord. I am alone, as it is and always will be. He won't do anything to save me.

You lift my robes and pull down my undergarments with firmness. I begin to cry weakly. If Death comes while you take me, I will not hesitate this time in accompanying it as I don't think that I will be able to recover _again_ after this…

There is a rustling of cloth behind me and shut my eyes. I will not cry. I just _won't_. I can feel you press against me and then with no warning, thrust into me with such force, I would have collapsed had you not been holding me up. Repressing the urge to shriek is extremely hard and as a result, I make my lip split and let out scarlet.

"I want you to cry for me Harry. You know you can't resist me." Nails dig into my shoulder, bruising and cutting.

No…I am not here, I am asleep, I am_ not_ here...this is a nightmare…

You pull out of my backside, pain lances through me sharply, and drive back into me with more force than the last. If there is a God, make him let me die, there is no reason to live if I must suffer so! Please, _please_ let me die!

"You won't cry for me? You always make me have to do this hard way." You say with a sigh and it feels as if my teeth have gone right through my lip as I bite down so hard in pain.

But then…something…

Screeching, crying, moaning in my mind. A yell of anger eclipsed by the roar of utter psychotic rage. Shadows chase my thoughts, winged beings fall to the ground before my eyes. Sobs above myself, above serenity. Whispers, murmurs, drifting on the smoke of rationalization. Emptiness, the end of pain.

Death, yes, I see you! Yes, offer me your hand, take me away from this! I _beg_ of you, don't leave me! Please don't!

"You can't die yet," says a voice suddenly, one that I cannot connect to anyone.

Please don't go away, I don't want to live anymore!

"Everything will be all right." The voice says kindly.

No…it won't…_why do reclaim your offer Death?_ **Don't abandon me!**

"I'm going to take you back."

Let me go! I don't _want_ to be here! No…don't make me return…I ask you….just…just do not…

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I should hope this is a hallucination because otherwise, I'm going to start crying.

"It's real, I'm sorry." A familiar voice whispers above me. I've no need to look up. I know who it is and I must be damned because of this.

"Why…?" I murmur almost inaudibly. My existence just seems to spiral out of control in Fate's handbook. Maybe it's karma…maybe it's because I just _exist_.

"Because I love you."

A tear slips down my cheek, burning in the iciness, and I bury my face in his robes. I've…I've lost. I don't even know why I tried to fight…it all proved useless, didn't it? _Didn't it?_

"I'll stay." He says and that proves to be the breaking point. I choke and begin to sob near uncontrollably, all composure forgotten. Every emotion comes loose and there is no end to this utter lack of calm. He rocks me gently within his arms in the attempt to comfort me, I know, but that appears to make me cry even harder.

…It's possibly hours later, maybe days…because I can't possibly tell at this point. I lay exhausted against him, he still holding me securely to him, almost like a sacred possession. Shame creeps through my limbs slowly but determinedly. I've made myself look so unbelievably pathetic and sick…

"Everything's going to be okay now, you don't have to be afraid, everything is going to be all right."

I say nothing but merely grasp his robes tightly with my fingers and squeeze my eyes shut. He settles a hand in my hair and his next words are extremely close to me.

"You're safe."

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A.O.T.I.F.: …That's such a contradictory ending, isn't it?

(kicks desk furiously) Since one of my reviewers told me that the last two lines in the last chapter didn't quite fit, I went and edited it out and reposted the whole chapter (sorry Howl, I know you commented on that).

And thank you again Howl, for a very nice review.

Please review.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't think that the person who owns Harry Potter has a multiple personality disorder.

Disclaim her: Though the world and events do exist independent of mind, they obtain of no meaning in themselves; none that the mind is not guilty of imposing on them.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Severus, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, for the last time, _GO AWAY_!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: The person who blushes can't be all bad.

Chapter 19: Approval

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I am troubled of the idea of falling asleep even though he is beside me and has erected a barrier within my mind so no one can ever enter it again. He didn't say much after I stopped crying, I nothing at all in return.

I've already distanced myself from what you did, and my function has now been weakened as a result just as it always is when I suppress things. It just takes so much time…

But…the fact that I am detached toward this might help me recover better than all the other times you abused me. However, I somehow doubt it will. I will probably just crack even more under the pressure that is put on me. And as always, only time will tell the truth.

This is just about the end for everything as I have known it.

I am unwell…what can I do…? What can I do now…?

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"You didn't sleep, did you?"

I give no reply and he bends down and brushes my bangs from my eyes. He traces my scar gently with a finger, but the action doesn't exactly connect within my mind until a few moments later. His hand is so cold…

"Do you want to take a bath?"

Again, I say nothing, but my eyes flicker out to the windows in the room. Rain splatters the windows, but no sound reaches me. The Dark Lord leaves my side, and some distant part of me that can still feel wants to call out and ask him to not go away. But I am not sure I still have a voice…it may have been lost with my screams.

He returns a few minutes later and draws me carefully up from the bed, but I remain utterly unresponsive to his touch. Even when he begins to draw off my clothes, I still make no move to stop him. If he's going to take advantage of me, I'm in no position to stop him.

The Dark Lord sets me in the bath and holds my head above the water as he begins to slowly cleanse my ghastly remaining fragments of a body. I wish…he would let me go and let me sink below the warm water to leave me to drown because I detest the fact that he won't. He gives me an unbearable existence.

I notice almost from another state of mind that as he begins to towel me off, I leaning against him since I am unable to support myself, that the water in the bathtub is tinted a remarkable shade of cherry. How…strange…

Again, the fact that he is dressing me is nearly incomprehensible to my mind but I don't have the will to function properly to pay attention to this. The Dark Lord lays me down among the blankets and covers me, ruby eyes never leaving my dulled emerald. He than pulls something off the bedside table and hands it to me.

Dreamless Sleep.

"Please drink this."

As I make no motion to move, he sits me up and places it at my lips. I swallow obediently as he tilts it and he proceeds to lay me back down.

"Everything is okay now, you can sleep; I'll stay here with you."

Yes, he should stay because I'm afraid of being alone. My paranoia might also wrench out of control if he doesn't. He leans over me and presses his lips to my scar softly, almost as if he's afraid that I'll break apart before his very eyes. The contact is vaguely sincere as warmth spreads to my chest to tear away at the coldness.

He murmurs something that I cannot fully grasp, but I have no chance to ponder this as my eyes begin to slip shut.

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He appears anxious, near afraid as he sits next to my prone form on the bed, acutely aware that I have recovered some of my senses. I do not know why he is fearful, however, because there is no need for him to worry. I'm the same as I ever was. Just a little more broken than the last time, that's all.

"Are you feeling better?"

My mind twists into a shape unforgettable and incomprehensible as it tries to think of an answer that is suitable to be voiced out loud. "No, and I don't think I ever will," I whisper and he pulls me to him. I don't resist.

"It will be okay. I'm here."

"It won't ever be the same now. You know that, don't you?" I suspect I should be feeling something more than indifference because I know the fact that I feel empty and devoid of meaning is not a good thing.

But even so, I do not know _what_ to feel.

"Yes, I know. And it's okay." He strokes my hair lightly, comforting me without really meaning to.

"Is it really?" I ask quietly with a sigh.

"No. But it will be." He replies firmly. My mind is muddled; my thoughts won't be recognize themselves as independent immediately. And something nags at me persistently, something I don't understand, and makes my mind even more confused than it already is.

"I'm not well, am I?" I ask bleakly. Maybe I could throw myself off the roof of his Manor…

"No, you're not." He replies with the same amount of resignation as me.

"At least you're not lying." I murmur softly.

" I never did to begin with. Do you want to know why?"

"You don't have to ask my permission." I reply resignedly.

"You're just temperamental, that's all," he says quietly and sighs. "The reason I have never lied to you is because of the fact that it wasn't me who gave you those dreams. It was Dumbledore. He made you think that I was torturing your godfather in the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't me."

"And you're not lying?" I ask despairingly, unbelievingly. I don't want to fight his words; but sometimes it's a little much to take in. But I won't protest anymore…I won't fight. I've lost, entirely and carelessly.

"I'm not."

"Okay then." A miserable smile strains for release on my lips and the need to cry resurfaces. My mind's addled fragments are unable to confer the correct emotions into my consciousness through their confusion.

"I won't mind if you cry. And don't give me that crap about how you're weak because you're not."

"I _am_ weak, but I'm okay." I'm not, and he knows this. I'm useless… "I'm through with crying right now."

"That's good." I can feel his smile though unable to see him, and my features soften through none of my will. "Exactly how well do you feel right now?"

I frown at the change of subject and shrug. "Okay, I suppose."

"Do you want to go and take back your godfather's house from the Light?"

"Are you serious?" I ask, half concerned, half uncaring.

"Would I joke about something like this?"

"Who knows? We're both out of our minds." I answer quietly, sarcastically.

"Well, are you feeling up to it?" He asks anxiously.

"What have I got to lose?" I inquire blankly. It truly is ironic…

"If you're not feeling-"

"I'm okay. You don't have to worry so much." As if there was anything left to worry for.

_Useless, _the voice, perhaps my mind, says.

"I merely care, that's all." He says gently.

"Yes, I'm sure you do Tom."

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We Apparate to the suburban area where my godfather's house is located and Voldemort immediately pulls the hood of my cloak over my face so it is completely hidden.

"Is this always necessary?"

"Yes, unless you want the Aurors after us both." As he says this, I look up just in time to see him morph into the guise of Lord Voldemort.

"Well don't you look lovely."

"Don't be rude." He says, but there is laughter in his voice.

"I'm being honest." I mutter and he chuckles softly. "Why are we waiting here anyways?"

"Others are coming."

"If _she_ comes, I swear I'm-"

"No, she isn't." He replies quickly and there are pops signifying the arrival of a number of people. I turn to glimpse who has come, but the Dark Lord guides me away from them as we approach the spot where the house is supposed to appear.

The house itself slides out of nowhere a few moments later and the Dark Lord goes up to the door and gives it a number of odd taps with his wand, thus causing it swing open.

He pulls me into the hallway and begins to lead me to the staircase. Once there, he turns to his Death Eaters. "Avery, Rabastan, Rodolphus, you take the first floor. If you see children, collect them and bring them back here. This goes the same for you Lupin, Severus, and Draco but you will have the second floor. Lucius, you're with me. Am I clear?"

There are soft murmurs of agreement and the men depart swiftly and silently, leaving only Lucius in the hall. He takes a hesitant step toward us. "Harry?"

"Yes." I reply and tilt the hood of my cloak back for a moment so he can see my face. He sighs at the sight of me, maybe in relief, but I wouldn't know and am not willing to ask right now.

The Dark Lord takes my hand and leads me up the stairs while Lucius follows close behind us. We stop our ascent at the third floor, _their_ floor. I remain close to him now, apprehensive. And so begins our search of every room on the floor for people.

Most of the rooms aren't even inhabitable to begin with, but Voldemort and Lucius check them all for good measure. And then, we reach a room that appears ridiculously familiar.

He looks down at me, a grin flashing across his features and he sticks his forked tongue out at me. I smile in return, through no apparent reason, a cold smile that has too many teeth involved. And then through no apparent reason, to the shock of Lucius and I, he _knocks_ on the door. For the love of-

There is no reply for a moment, but then I hear a faint 'who is it?'. The Dark Lord abruptly pokes me in the side and I have half a mind to kick him, but then he tells me what he wants. _You answer._

_You're an imbecile. _I mutter crossly in my mind.

_Please._

"Fine." I exhale softly and straighten. "It's me, Harry," I call out so to be heard through the wood of the door. Lucius immediately pulls me behind him and draws on his Death Eater mask.

The door flies open. "Harry, is that you?" A girl's voice says. Hermione.

"Well hello there." Voldemort says pleasantly and I sense the smile in his words. As he casts a spell, the shriek that she gives is hastily cut off. Then there is a thud; the bitch fainted. I am unable to hold back a snort of laughter. And I thought I was pitiful…

Another voice emerges from the room. "Hermione, who was it?" Footsteps then a gasp. "HERMIONE?!"

"Another one? The more the merrier." The Dark Lord says happily and he Stuns Ron who in turn gives a muffled yell.

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"Quite a haul, don't you think?" Voldemort says more to me than anyone else but still directs the question toward his followers. Half of the Death Eaters left a few minutes ago. Most of the people caught were children with the exception of a few adults.

"You know the answer to that." Severus says softly. At these words, I glance toward him, and I can see that he is ashen. What the hell has been happening to him? The Dark Lord seems to notice him then as well.

"Severus, go home. I'll call you if I need you." Severus bows slightly and departs, looking horribly unsteady on his legs. "Draco, go with him, make sure he gets rest." The younger Malfoy departs as well at this.

And with a murmured spell from Lucius, everyone bound on the hallway floor disappears.

"And where did you send them Lucius?" The Dark Lord inquires lightly.

"They are now in Hogsmeade Village...We need to get Black down here to change the locks and wards." Lucius says as he pulls off his Death Eater mask and pushes back his white-blond hair. "My Lord, may I go?"

"Yes." And then Lucius is gone and he and I are alone, as we always seem to be in the end.

"So are we going back to the Manor now?" He gives no response and merely morphs back into his more human form. "Tom?"

"Yes?" He replies after a moment.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes, there is something wrong." He pulls the cloak off my head and tilts my head up so I am looking into his ruby eyes. He gazes down at me with no trace of emotion on his face for so long that I flush in embarrassment. He smiles down at me at this, and traces my scar carefully; making me shudder no matter the attempt I make to suppress it. Warmth suddenly flares like a beacon inside my chest.

"You are such a beautiful young man." He whispers as he bends down, so close that our faces are nearly touching. My face burns scarlet and he laughs softly. I'm so pathetic. And again, at one sign of affection, I shatter. My damnation never ceases to surprise me. …The flicker of warmth has increased to a burn.

He slips an arm around my waist and effectively pulls me closer to him. "I'm going to kiss you."

"I didn't…know that you were supposed to tell someone when you were going to do that."

"But if I tell you, then you have an opportunity to say no."

"Even if I said no, you would still kiss me."

"That's probably true." He says as he closes his eyes and gently presses his lips to mine. This…this is completely different from being kissed on the cheek and I don't… know what to do in response or why…I don't push him away. This is wrong!

But I can't resist…

I hesitantly reach up and place my arms on his shoulders to reach his height.

He laughs contentedly against me, making me tremble in the alien feelings he constructs in me through any contact we happen make. His tongue touches my lips, imploring and relentless, and I give in almost immediately and open my mouth to him. He sweeps my mouth with his tongue, almost as if he is mapping out uncharted territory and he engages in a furious battle for dominance with me that he wins as he pins my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

He pulls away for breath, after kissing me far more gently countless more times and making me want to splinter into a million pieces from the sheer complexity of the emotions that he's unearthed in me. If he did not have his arms around my waist, I would have collapsed at this point because my legs feel like water.

"Let's go home."

Why didn't I protest? _Why_ did I let him have his way?! _What have I done?_

"It's all right. You didn't do anything wrong."

"No, it isn't! I'm not supposed to do these kind of things!" I'm sick!

"It's all right." He says calmly.

"Damn it, it isn't! Why can't I resist you?!" I demand, my voice near a yell. He holds me tighter to him, and my anger, to my displeasure, begins to seep away.

"It's only because you don't want to."

I must be condemned to an existence that rots in the depths in hell.

"If you want me to cease my advances, I will."

"Then stop, I wish you to stop." I whisper, disgusted with myself.

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A.O.T.I.F.: I have issues.

I know that sometimes that the things that happen between Voldemort and Harry "seem" to be pointless, but there is some indication that there is a reason for it all…

I bet a lot of people were happy that _some_ kind of action finally took place but are now out of their minds in fury because Harry went out and rejected Voldemort _again_.

And thank you reviewers, you made my day.

Please review.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I have a Harry Potter bookmark, but that isn't the same as the owning Harry Potter…

Disclaim her: I bid my people follow and like all good equations, they follow, for full undimmed with purpose they do submit.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Sirius, Bellatrix, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, this is not suitable for your age group!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Your word is who you are.

Chapter 20: Meaning

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He leaves me to my own directions when we return, and not one word is exchanged between us. I do not wish to do anything but sleep again, but even that is not a release from my misery. I cannot get away from anything that happens and I can't kill myself because he'll just bring me back to where I started, broken and useless.

As I wander through the halls, wondering if perhaps I could find Lucius and just stay with him for a while, I see _her_. Bellatrix pauses in mid-step and a look of utter hatred crosses her features.

"What are you doing here Potter?"

My fingers form into a fist and I almost lash out wandlessly until I repress the urge at the last moment. "I live here, don't be stupid."

"Just because you're the Dark Lord's new plaything doesn't mean that I can't hurt you." She hisses resentfully and takes a step toward me.

"Take your best shot, bitch." I spit out in anger. All the anger and frustration of the last few days is catching up to me and trying to suppress it is becoming a challenge. Taking it out on her wouldn't be so bad though…

"Fuck you Potter."

"That's not a nice thing to say you know." If you think about it, it's truly ironic, saying that to her I mean. "Why won't you attack me? You couldn't possibly be afraid of a child who's out of his mind?"

"No one could ever be afraid of you," She assures me and in the next moment whips out her wand. But I am countless steps ahead of her…

I appear in front of her in a flash and grin at her with a smile that involves too many teeth. "You should be." I tackle her to the ground and press my wand tip to her throat while straddling her waist. Bellatrix gives a weak sort of gasp and makes to scream, but I press my hand over her mouth so the sound is merely muffled.

As I bend over so we are nearly touching, she makes to jerk away but I simply laugh and backhand her effortlessly. Her eyes water through the force of the strike, and her eyes become fearful.

"You can't be serious Bella. I'm not about to rape you. And anyway, I thought that you weren't afraid of me."

She whimpers weakly and gives a choked sob as I trail a finger down the side of her face and then drag my fingers across her neck sharply. I smile down at her once more and then rise to my feet. Bellatrix makes no move to do anything in retaliation as I remove myself from her. She only lays prone and still on the wooden floor as she gazes up at me, tears near falling from her eyes.

"I'm glad we had this chance to work things out. Oh, and this is for the pain you caused me with my godfather." I say quietly and kick her violently in the side. She cries out softly and I can hear her begin to sob as I walk away.

…Pathetic…just…like me.

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"I haven't seen you in awhile, Harry."

"I've been busy, I suppose…when did you come back?"

"Just a few hours ago to be honest. I had to go change the wards on my house."

"Did you finish?" I ask quietly.

"Would I be here if I hadn't?" He replies and brushes back his shoulder length hair. "Come sit beside me."

I rise slowly to my feet and drop myself down beside my godfather. He leans back and brushes his hair back once again.

"Something happened." He states after a few moments. Damn it, why does he have to be so perceptive?

"Nothing happened, I don't know why you would think that. I'm fine, can't you tell?" I ask pleasantly. My backside still pains me…

"And you're still so tired. There are dark circles under your eyes…"

"I am well rested now that you mention it."

"You're not, and I know exactly why."

"You do?" I ask curiously. I'm surprised…but not exactly surprised. I think I knew that he knew what was going on. "Tell me then Sirius, what happened to me?"

"You fought with him, again. And now you're depressed, again, because you're not with him."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" I ask drearily and pull my glasses from my face. Sometimes the decisions that I make cause me to wonder how much of me is still here…

"You've been clutching that pendant that he gave you as if it's going to disappear from existence."

"I have not." I retort quickly and drop my hands from my necklace as if they've been burned. Damn it!

"I don't care what you do with him, but if you don't want to be here, then you can come live with me." Sirius says quietly, almost to himself.

"That's all right, I'm fine here right now." I reply wearily, unhurriedly.

"I mean it, you can come live with me." He says urgently.

"I know, and it's all right. Thank you for the offer though."

"You know that you're starting school next week, don't you?" He asks abruptly and turns toward me.

"Yeah, I know." I answer unenthusiastically. I don't want to return...I'm…afraid… You're so angry with me right now and I do not want to know what's going to happen when I go back… I don't want to be frightened, but I am afraid. I don't want to be weak, but I have to be dependant on others…

"If Dumbledore tries to pull any crap with you, I want you to get away through any means possible."

He makes it sound so simple. And sometimes, I wish it were. "You don't know what he can do Sirius."

"That pendant that the Dark Lord gave you has an extensive amount of wards on it. He most likely won't even be able to be within ten feet of you before the spells kick in. But if he does manage to get close to you, I swear scream as loud as you can, run, or fight back if need be. Use the Unforgivables, anything, do you understand?"

Doesn't the prospect of returning to Hogwarts just sound lovely? And of course, Voldemort never tells me what the pendant that he gives me does. "Yes, I will Sirius." I have no reason to fight back except for the fact that I don't want any more pain.

"You want to go do something tomorrow, just you and me?"

To my astonishment, a smile slips onto my countenance and makes me brighten considerably. "You really want to? You don't mind spending time with a psychopath?"

"Ah, you're not that dangerous." He replies with a laugh.

"So, what did you have in mind?"

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I don't bother knocking on his office door before I enter and I walk up to his desk where he is writing away. After a few minutes in which no immediate attention is paid to me, I begin to speak. Hm, déjà vu. "I'm going out tomorrow."

He says nothing and continues to write.

"I said that I'm not going to be here tomorrow."

"I heard you." He says quietly, sounding tremendously strained.

"And you don't care?"

"Do what you want. I'm not your master."

I have a feeling that my jaw has just dropped. "You're serious?"

"Why would I joke?

"Why are you being so lenient? Why aren't you telling me no or that you're going to come with me?"

"Why should I _go_ with you when you don't _want_ me with you?" He asks coldly, his hand flying across the parchment with swift, elegant strokes.

"That was uncalled for."

"No, it wasn't. But why should you _care_? You don't like me anyway." He says as he finally raises his eyes to meet mine. Crazed ruby meets splintered emerald. He smiles up at me with a terrible amount of teeth involved.

"Don't turn this against me."

"It was already against you, Harry. You shouldn't play the game if you don't know the rules." He says, with the maniacal smile still plastered upon his features.

"I've already lost the game." I reply slowly.

"You did? Well, tell me how. I'm eager to know how they lose these days!"

"I…You made me yield." Why in the hell am I telling him this?!

"But I thought that you weren't going to give in!" His voice rises noticeably at these words and I frown.

"I…I didn't…You made me…"

"You chose to come here and be with me. I did not force you."

"But you did." I protest desperately as he rises to his feet abruptly and circles the desk so now nothing separates us.

The Dark Lord's smile is stone as he looks down at me. I could…drown in those eyes. Damn…it… "No, Harry, I didn't. You should have grounds to base your accusations on before you point a finger at someone. Now, get out of here before I lose my temper." He raises an arm and indicates the door of his office, the chilling smile a seeming permanent fixture upon his features.

"_Why won't you take control over me?!_" I suddenly burst out in irritation without any thought of the consequences.

The impact of what I've said only sinks in when I find myself pinned beneath him on his desk. He leans down over me and causes me to believe that he is going to run a hand down my cheek but he instead places the said hand on the side of my face.

"You want me to take control over you again?" He whispers softly, his breath tickling my face and his weight crushing me. I am…not afraid. How…strange.

"Well?" He's so close…I could…

"…Yes." I whisper, my voice nearly nonexistent. Why…Why did I just say that? What the hell?! I attempt to turn my head away but he cradles it in his hands. I want to hit him, but I can't. I just _can't_. …_Why is this?_

"Tell me why." He's so close he could kiss me like he did before.

"I…" Tears gather in my eyes and I try to blink them away but they slide down my cheeks and leave a burning trail as they go. I'm so pathetic… "I…can't. Let me go."

"No."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask sharply as my hand forms into a fist. My tears stop for a reason unknown to myself. _What the hell is wrong with me? _Why do I act like this? Why am like this?!

"I won't let you go when you clearly need me to stay with you."

"Shut up." Why do things always take a turn for the worse when we converse with each other?

_Because you're in denial_, my mind whispers softly, almost to its self. _You don't want to accept him, but you care far more than you let on. You're worthless._

_Just because I'm not like everyone else-_

_That's _no_ excuse!_

"I said to let me go."

"And I said no."

He smiles to himself as if he's in on a joke. "You want me to resort to violence to have you stay here?"

My resolution wavers for a small moment, but returns strong. "Whatever you think works best. After all, you have _mastery_ over me."

"I never said that." He says quietly.

"You insinuated that when you constantly talk down to me. You act as if I am below you, even though I _am_, and make it appear that I am not worthy to be your equal."

"I really make you feel that way?"

"I'm merely stating the facts. The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Your idea of truth varies from day to day so I don't know what I would say to that. You are offended at whatever I happen to say to you."

"You're pathetic for caring for something that doesn't feel the same way."

"Your _self pity_ is pathetic."

"You are not in charge of telling me what is wrong with me!"

"But you want me to like you and tell you what I think of you even though you continue to tell me that you don't care what others think of you. You want someone to like you but you don't want to accept it because you're afraid."

"I am in no way afraid!" I yell in frustration.

"You're afraid of another betrayal."

"Everyone hates me!" I scream and take a step backwards out of no accord of my own.

"You hate _yourself_! Nobody hates you! You only think this because it makes it easier for you to distance yourself from people! _You don't know anything about anything because you don't want to learn anything!_" He shouts in anger.

I take another step backward. Make him stop! I don't want to listen to this again! Mind of mine, why won't you ever help me when I need you?!

"Don't you dare try to leave me again because I will resort to force to keep you here. You have no idea what I am capable of!" He shouts once more, his eyes blazing.

"Hurt me then! All it proves is that you're just like everybody else!"

"Haven't you realized by now that _I am not like everybody else?!_"

"Yes you are! You don't like me!" I scream once more as I take another hesitant step backwards.

"_How can I like you when you don't _want_ me to like you?!_"

"You should like me regardless of how I act!"

"I ALREADY DO! And this proves my point of how you want me to like you but don't want me to at the same time!" He yells angrily.

"NO!" I shriek wildly, despairingly.

"It's true. Just accept it."

My mind is wild, crying and shrieking at the same time. I can't take this anymore! I turn and I feel his essence reaching out and attempting to subdue me. I try to resist, trying my best to not give in, but his spirit overwhelms mine and I am broken down ruthlessly and madly. The next thing I know, I'm being cradled gently within his arms and the urge to lash out in frustration is disorienting to my mind. Damn it!

"To the hell with everything else Harry, why won't you stop fighting everyone?"

"Who said I was fighting _everyone _and not just you?"

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A.O.T.I.F.: I have no idea how I came up with the end part of this chapter…

I'm _very _sorry for the time it took to update, I had to write some pathetic excuse of a paper…

Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate it!

Harry's going to get out of his denial soon, so please don't be angry and throw sharp things at the author.

Someone asked me about Harry and school but I didn't quite understand what was being asked… reviewer, elaborate on what you are asking and I'd be happy to answer your question.

Please review.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: (sigh) Harry Potter and I cannot possibly be related.

Disclaim her: In turn, they resign me to a role inhuman, impossible, and unaccountable.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, look, it's crayons, now go color and leave!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: When you knock on opportunity o' door, make sure you have all your bags packed. There's no time to go back.

Chapter 21: Struggle

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"Who said I was fighting _everyone _and not just you?"

"You fight because you care for me." He states calmly and serenely as he caresses my hair gently. I can't…I can't pull away. Not again…

"I…don't. You just believe that because it distances you from the truth. You know I feel nothing for you."

"And you _know_ that is a lie. _You_ distance yourself because you feel that you cannot handle the implications of what it means to accept things for the way they are. You are a very sad child." He states quietly.

"I am no child!" I retort angrily.

"You are only a child because you do not understand. You say you comprehend things, but you don't know what it means to truly _understand_."

"I _understand_ that I don't want to be with you. I don't want to be with _anyone_!" I yell with my voice muffled against his robes.

"Then why are you here? For what purpose if not to be with me?"

"I just- I don't know!" I whisper, frustrated.

"Because I make you feel safe? Because you don't feel threatened anymore? You don't want anything to happen to yourself and you _expect_ me to protect you. But that is not how it works when you threaten me, hurt me and curse me."

"You don't make me feel anything! I am just here to be here. That is all!"

"That is not reason." He murmurs gently.

"Yes, it _is_!"

"There is no reason for you to be here solely for you to _just be here_. It makes no sense. And you won't reveal the true motive for your inhabitance of my Manor because you're too embarrassed to admit it. You're afraid I'll reject you like all the others did. You're afraid that my feelings for you are not genuine and that I'll leave, just like all the others. You're not that hard to read." He murmurs yet again and as quiet as the last time.

"If I'm so simple, then why haven't you figured out why I won't admit anything to you?"

"I already know why, but telling you would traumatize you even more than you are now. You don't need that."

"You don't _know_ what I _need_. All you _think_ you know is what I _want_."

"And you still skip around the subject. You're afraid."

"I am _weak_. …But I am_ not_ afraid."

"You lie." He says almost to himself.

"Like you?"

"Like me. But not to you. Never…to you."

"Liar!" I scream in anger and frustration. How ironic…

"_Child_." A smile, as his grip shifts. "It is no use talking to you as you won't listen to one word I say."

"You're just realizing it now?"

"I did, and yet again, we're back to the beginning." The Dark Lord says with a sigh. He draws away and recedes behind his desk once more and I sink into the armchair in front of him.

"And again, my feelings remain the same."

"…You leave, yet return to me through inexplicable reasons."

"I come out of _CHOICE_!"

"What you speak of is nonexistent."

"Lies, once again all you give me is lies!" I yell angrily and he sinks his head within his arms from what appears to be weariness. I want to rush at him and hurt him in ways that I've felt hurt but I cannot do anything. He has no right to be weak when I want to hurt him!

"Why won't you just give up?"

"I beg your pardon!" I exclaim wildly as my voice rises drastically in pitch.

"Why won't you accept things for the way they are meant to be? You know deep down how this will all end."

"…Maybe I do. But maybe that is what you just believe."

"And you still won't take a side."

"I am neutral. I take no side."

"Yet you live in my Manor and interact with my servants. Don't give me that look; of course I know what you did to Bellatrix. However, I must commend you. I don't think anyone but myself has made her cry the way she did when you left her in the hall."

"So you were stalking me. That doesn't really show your trust in me, now does it." A crude statement, not a question.

"I merely happened to be in that area at the time. It is of no importance."

"I'm sure it isn't," I mutter to myself softly.

"And you still haven't told me where you stand."

"I told you; I'm neutral."

"There is no middle ground." He states firmly.

"I never belonged anywhere to begin with." There is a pause where he looks ready to speak once more. "And don't you dare try to classify me as something you _know_ I'm not!"

"I never intended to; you are the one who said that."

"Why do I have take a side?! I'm not going to _do _anything!"

"Will you let me Mark you?" He inquires softly, abruptly.

"Why is it so terribly necessary?! Why do you deem it essential to brand me as yours? I'm already here; is that just not good enough?!"

"So you admit you are here for me."

"I am here because I _wish_ to be here."

"You want to stay. You are frightened of the prospect of remaining alone. Please, let me help you."

"You can't help me! You don't know anything!"

"I know why you act the way you do and I know why you will deny my words till the end of time." He says quietly and rises from behind his desk with a grace I could never even hope to achieve. The Dark Lord walks up to me and if I could function as I wish I could, I would have flinched.

He places a hand on my cheek and the urge to close my eyes and pass away is strong. "You have never known what it is to be loved, have you?"

"I never deserved to be loved to begin with. I am nothing to be taken into consideration." I mutter and cringe as his hand recedes to the back of my neck.

"But I recognize you; I acknowledge you. You aren't invisible Harry. I care about you. I will always care."

"I don't want anymore of this. Why won't you just let me be?" I whisper as he traces my scar.

"Because you need me and you depend on me." He says as he presses his lips to my cheek gently. "And I will be here as long as you need me."

"I…don't." I murmur softly to myself and my eyes fall halfway shut. He catches my words easily.

"You do. Let me stay with you," He murmurs quietly and he tilts my head toward him. No resistance remains to be given…so I turn to him. His eyes meet mine and tears form in my eyes through reasons I cannot explain.

"Don't…"

"Hush." He presses his lips to mine and I give a weak sort of half cry in my throat as he sinks his hand into my hair. I don't want this!

_Yes you do. You want him to take care of you. You want him to show his _love_ for you._

_No! That's not true!_

_It is, so stop denying it. All he wants to do is care for you and you just won't let him._

He kneels by my side and cups my face with his other hand as he pulls away from the kiss. The Dark Lord smiles slightly at me and I choke back a frustrated sob as I pull away from his hand and bury my face within my arms. I am damned to this existence!

With no concern for the maintenance of composure, I let loose a torrent of angry tears. A few moments later, I hear him rise from my side and press his lips to my hair. Damn him!

"Please, Harry, don't cry." He says to me and I raise my head sharply.

"Don't you tell me what to do! I'll cry if I want to, you fucking bastard! You manipulate me and then try to seduce me? Fuck you!"

"Please, don't say those kinds of things. I do not wish to harm you."

"Shut the hell up!"

I don't know how the next moments came to be as they came to pass but in the next second, he's thrown me to the floor in such a swift moment that I do not recall moving. He straddles my waist and pins my hands above my head with seemingly no energy used. I try to kick out my legs but the effort is futile; his grip is steel.

"I told you not to make me angry with you. I don't _want_ to hurt you."

"Let me go!" I scream furiously but he bends down in such a way that makes his lips nearly touch mine.

"No. I want you to admit that you are here to be with me. Otherwise, no." He states quietly, calmly.

"I'll never say that!"

"Do you want me to force that fact to come forth in your mind? I will do that if required."

"Don't you dare defile me!"

"When you've already been taken advantage of so many times that you've lost count? I've seen all there is to see in you; I've seen your soul. I know why you are the way you are. You just want to be loved but no one will take the time for you, will they? That's why you hate everyone. That's why you wish to be alone." He looks down at me and with his free hand brushes back my bangs so he can see my scar. He then returns his gaze to my face where I know he can see my pathetic tears streaming down my face. "I see I've struck a chord."

"Let go of me!" I manage to choke out through my upset and I force my eyes away from his face and lock my gaze at the ceiling to trace the interlocking patterns of the wood.

"You won't admit anything to me because if you do, everything will change. You're afraid to venture out from your comfort zone where you know how everything is and how it always will be. You don't have to be so afraid. I told you, I'm not going to leave you."

"Let me go!" My voice is heavily strained and my mind laughs softly at my distress, an echoing, ethereal laugh. Damn it!

"How could I give you proof that I tell you no lies? You seem to think that everything is a part of a conspiracy that in turn takes part of the elaborate plan to seduce you, so how could I prove to you that I am not lying?"

"_Let me go!_" I shriek at the top of my voice as I hear my mind's laughter increasing in pitch.

"I've tried my best, I really have! I've given you your personal space, I haven't hurt you, I've tried my best to be kind to you and yet all you do is rage at me. If there's something I'm doing wrong, tell me so I can mend my ways, please, I beg you, just let me help you! All I want to do is help you!"

There's an odd cackling in my mind that isn't at all helpful to this situation. My helpless tears continue to pour, a metaphor for other more obscene things...why can't I stop and recompose? Why can't I just bring myself to fight back effectively? Weak…

"I…" The whisper comes forth on my lips through no will of my own. His eyes meet mine for a time that cannot be measured, pleading ruby with bitter and distressed emerald. I really could…drown in those eyes. Deny…deny…denial. I should just submit…but…do I really…want to? He's…he's right because he knows that I don't want to change because I don't know what lies ahead. I am not afraid…just…unsure. I…I…

Do I really care for him like everyone says I do? Or does everyone say that because they want me to care for him?

I know…what I want. But…what do I need? What do I…need?

_Love._

Am I really…in denial? How do I _really_ feel about him? He makes me feel safe and that I needn't fight anymore because he is there to protect me but…how is that feeling put into words? Why…why can't I…?

Deny…denial.

I'm so screwed up.

_He cares. He _wants _to be with you. Can't you see that he doesn't care about the problems that you have?_

"…Tell me…why…again."

"Because I just _do_. Why does anyone care about another person? It's just the way things are, Harry."

"But I'm messed up!"

"And what does that have to do with anything? Nobody is perfect Harry; you of all people should know that…"

"You…stay because you care?"

"Yes."

"So you'll stay…with…_me_?"

"Yes." He says softly as he runs his free hand over my scar. I am unable to repress the urge to shiver at the odd feeling that runs up my spine. He releases my hands as he draws off me and leans against the armchair. I sit up and readjust my glasses and wearily lean against him just because I can.

"Even though…even though there are some things that you don't know about me…that you might not like in the end…?

"Yes."

"…Please…don't…don't………leave me."

"I never will." He slips an arm around my middle and pulls me closer to him. "I promise."

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A.O.T.I.F.: So, his denial has ended! …Well, (laughs weakly) _mostly_. Harry _kind of_ gave in and now he understands that Voldemort is going to be there for him and that he won't be alone…However, he still hasn't really touched on how he feels for Voldemort…

Please, ambushing the author in the park is not suggested (or anywhere else for that matter). I'll try to update soon, so please don't attack me, sharp objects and A.O.T.I.F. do not mix well.

Next chapter….dramatic pause…the long awaited return to Hogwarts! Cue suspenseful music. (A.O.T.I.F. chokes) Stupid tape player. Damn it…

Please review.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: (laughs softly) If you can see the purple elephants, then you don't own Harry Potter. …Hey! That elephant is navy blue, not purple!

Disclaim her: I have no interest in prisoners. Kill them all

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Draco, Neville, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, if you don't get out of here, I'm going to get sued for corrupting your young and innocent minds! Please, go away!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Criticize the performance, not the performer.

Chapter 22: Evaporation

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"Oh come _on_, you're going to be late!"

"I have time. You're just being paranoid." I mutter, annoyed to my wit's end.

"You're sure you didn't forget anything?!"

"For hell's sake, stop it! You sound like someone's mother!"

"I'm just making sure that you have everything. That is not a crime." He says with a hurt tone.

I roll my eyes as I push the cart with my trunk and Hedwig's cage on it toward the barrier. "The way you act makes me seem like the adult." I slide through the barrier quite easily and find the station, as usual, loud and packed full of people. "Ugh, it's way too congested in here."

He makes a reprimanding sound in his throat as he comes to my side and I have half a mind to hit him. "Don't be rude and no, don't hit me. That's no way to part with someone."

"With you, it is." I say crossly as I push the cart closer to where the train is. God, I hate this. Why the hell do I have to go back anyways?

"You wanted to go back."

"I never said that."

"I would have to assume that as I am standing with you as you prepare to board a train that is heading to Hogwarts."

I swear, I'm going to fuc-"

"Ah don't worry, I'll see you when you have a Hogsmeade visit, so you don't be sad."

"One could never be sad when departing from your presence." I hiss rather nastily while my hand goes to the necklace he gave me. Ironic, really.

The train's whistle suddenly blows and people begin to hastily move onto the train. Crap.

"I guess it's time for you to go. Write me, will you?"

"You act as if I'm going of to war. You're really pathetic."

"…" He says nothing to this comment. With no warning, he surprises me by suddenly taking me into his arms and embracing me tightly. I can hear…his heart beating rather fast as my head is pressed against his chest. I…I wish he wouldn't let me go. When he does, I have to get on that train and go back to _you_. "Be safe, all right?"

My whisper seems to come from a distance. "I will," I hear myself saying and I find myself clutching the front of his robes so hard my fingers hurt. Why…? This is so odd…

"Go on now, you wouldn't want to miss the train."

"Right." I free myself from his grasp but miss the look of anxiety that is prominently etched into his features as I pull my trunk and Hedwig's cage off the cart and begin to make my way to the train. It'll always be the same…

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As I push my way through the crowded corridor wishing that these people would just sit down and stop staring at me as if I was on display, I am glad that I have not seen Hermione or Ron so far. If I had…Azkaban would be a nice place to spend the rest of my days.

I finally come to a compartment and whom do I find?

I slide the door open and Draco looks up at the noise.

"Can I come in here?"

"Why are you even asking?" He says quietly and with that, he turns his gaze back out the window.

"So you left your cronies to fend for themselves? I don't think they'll survive that long on their own with their levels of intelligence."

"…I told them to leave me alone. I don't want to be with anyone right now."

"…Was it…your father?" I swear; if it was Lucius, I'm going to beat that man till I draw blood.

"No…it's nothing." He turns back toward me and looks me over critically. "You've gotten thinner. Why haven't you been eating?"

I can feel myself flush and I drag my trunk into the compartment and hoist it up onto the luggage rack; pulling the door closed on my way in. "I have to."

"Harry." He says warningly and I roll my eyes irritably as I slide down onto the seat opposite him.

"I did!"

"Whatever." He mutters crossly and sits up so we are both looking each other straight in the eye. "There were some weird rumors going around on how you went missing over the summer." He states without warning.

"Were there really?" I ask tonelessly. I should be surprised, but…for some reason, I'm not.

"Did you?"

"I wouldn't say missing. "Went away" is a better term."

"Where did you go?"

"Just…away. Nowhere that is of importance."

"Sure. That is what you always tell me, and then I find that you've been a part of some elaborate conspiracy to assassinate the Prime Minister, or some other higher up in the wizarding hierarchy, _or_ that some group of terrorists is after you because you double-crossed them" I look at him blankly and he rolls his eyes in exasperation. He sighs again and makes a motion for me to come sit beside him. I rise and sit down by his side wearily. I am…tired… Is it from the distance that has been put between he and I…?

I lean my head against his shoulder just because I know that he won't move away and tell me to get off him. He's kind in this way.

"You're tired."

"…Yes."

"Go to sleep."

"That's what everyone tells me." I mutter and I shut my eyes. It seems it is only a few seconds later when the compartment door slides open. There is an awkward silence, which in turn, causes me to crack open an eye.

"Neville?"

"Hi Harry." He says in a near whisper and I can see that he is aiming furtive glances at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "…Everywhere else is full…"

Draco and Neville's eyes meet for a split second and something that I cannot even begin to fathom passes between them.

"You're welcome to stay here. He doesn't mind and neither do I." I murmur quietly and shut my eyes once more.

…I must have fallen asleep, because when I next recover awareness it's as if I had been shaken. It is then I realize almost instantly that something is very wrong.

"You're awake? Good Lord you slept for long time, Harry." I sit up and glance to the side of me. Draco is sound asleep with his face pressed against the windowpane. What…? He would never be so careless as to pass out when it is only the two of us.

"You needn't worry yourself. He is only under a Sleeping Spell."

I turn toward the direction of the voice.

"Neville?" Now this…this is certainly unexpected. He must be out of his mind if he thinks that he is going to clash with me and win. "What did you do?"

"I just…I just would like to ask you a couple of questions, that is all. Is that satisfactory?" Neville's features are hardened and cold and his voice mirrors his face perfectly. I suppose…I suppose that I should have seen this coming as everything always turns out the same in the end.

"Oh?"

"Where did you disappear to this summer?"

Not here. He seems to actually think that I'm going to tell him the truth. "I didn't disappear."

"The Light was positively out of its mind with panic when they found you had left Grimmauld Place. They thought you had been _captured_." He says with some amusement and he pushes back some loose hair that has fallen into his face. It occurs to me after a moment that I can see black where his robe has rolled up the arm.

"Really?"

"Honestly, you needn't be so tense! I'm not going to hurt you Harry, that would be stupid because I know that wherever you went to over the summer, changed you somehow and that if you wanted to, you could kill me straight away and think nothing of it."

"I could have done that beforehand as well."

He looks at me thoughtfully and I meet his gaze unwaveringly. "…Someone is protecting your mind from my attempts to breach it…that would only have to be done if something happened that made you unable to do it by yourself…"

"Pardon?" Sneaky little wretch, you think that I am not protecting my mind? _He_ may as well without my knowledge, as usual, but I am still competent enough to do it myself!

"Let me show you something."

He smiles without a trace of humor and beckons me to him. A voice, not mine, comes unbidden into my thoughts. _He'll kill you._

"I'm fine where I am, thank you." I answer coldly and cross my arms. I am _not_ afraid of him…just wary.

He shrugs, apparently unconcerned, and pulls up his sleeve.

…The Dark Mark.

The area around the forearm is blotchy with black and blue bruises and looks as if it has recently bled. Unbidden, I rise and press my fingers to the Mark. He hisses sharply but the damage on his arm disappears with the heal I wish upon it.

I return to my seat and I have an urge to clutch at the necklace at my neck as he turns his dumbfounded gaze to me.

"How…how the hell did you do that? It never healed when I tried!"

I smile acidly and laughter resonates through my mind in a spiral. _Aren't you a clever one?_

"Tell me how!"

"It is no matter," I say quietly and he flinches as my gaze turns upward to his eyes. Neville pales dramatically and tries to shy away from me.

"Are you all right?" I swear, when people put on a strong front, it would be better if they could actually try and maintain it.

"Your…eyes…"

"Yes?" I ask flatly and push back my bangs from the side of my face.

"They're…red."

I look at him in disbelief but conjure a mirror out of thin air anyways. Typical of him to do things that cause people to avoid me even more than they do now. When I glance into the glass, I find my reflection staring back at me blankly. Green against green.

"You're just side-splitting."

"I wasn't lying to you!"

"No need to get defensive. I'm not going to kill you. That would be _useless_." I pause and he flinches from my gaze once more. "What do you want? _Why_ are you here? For what _purpose_?"

"Out of choice."

"If you've gone and joined up with the Dark then you're obviously not doing anything out of _choice_. Were you forced to get that Mark?"

"…No."

"You joined up when Bellatrix Lestrange caused your parents insanity?!"

"This has nothing to do with her, but one day, I will get my revenge on what she did."

"Sorry, but I called her first. You're next in line."

"…Fuck you." He says angrily and his features darken in anger.

The next thing I know my hands are around his neck, crushing the life out of Neville. His face is panicked and I squeeze harder just because I can. I shouldn't be doing this, but…

His eyes are desperate but I know that mine are blank and cold…He places his hands over mine and tries to wrench off my grasp but it is futile. He begins to turn a lovely shade of blue-white as the asphyxiation I am inflicting upon him continues, and I think I am pity him.

"I advise you not to insult me again. Next time, the odds for your survival might not be so favorable."

With an emotionless sigh, I draw off him and hear him choke and gasp for air. It wouldn't do to kill him now. I poke Draco sharply in the side and he shoots up as if someone had yelled in his ear.

"I'm going back to sleep." I murmur softly as I lean against the wall and shut my eyes. Damn…he…………he…

Laughter ricochets off the sides of my mind. _You didn't have a chance._

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…Someone is shaking me awake.

"Harry, you need to get up. It's time to change into our school robes."

I crack open an eye and see Draco leaning over me. As I sit up, he hands me my robes.

"Thanks." I say and I stand to pull the robes on.

He mutters something incoherently as he pulls his robes over his head and smoothes them out.

"What?" He looks at me and meets my gaze.

"…Nothing."

As I adjust my own robes and slip my wand into my pocket, I see Neville sitting in the corner staring at his shoes and I can also see some finger shaped bruises beginning to form around his neck…No backbone, that one…

_You seem to have expected otherwise._

"Fifteen minutes till arrival Harry."

I mutter something in acknowledgement and Draco flops down beside me once more.

"Hey, it's okay. We'll be there soon."

"Yeah." I whisper, more to myself than to anyone else.

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A.O.T.I.F.:……I have a cold…(coughs violently)

(Peeks out window cautiously) (sighs) Good. They're gone. You know, it's not a good thing to make a paranoid person even worse than they currently are. You know it's only because I'm an established target! (sniffs)

Yeah…that idea of Harry going back to school…well, let's just say he won't be there for the whole year.

That voice that's been showing up randomly through the last half of this chapter…I'm not sure if it's Voldemort, Harry's mind, or someone else entirely…

Please review.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I doubt that Harry Potter is related to a person who believes that everyone is in on the concept of that said person being a target.

Disclaim her: Showtime, ladies.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Draco, Severus, and Hermione…

Rating: M for Mature. Children, please, go buy ice cream or something and leave!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: An opportunity lost is and opportunity lost forever.

Chapter 23: Achievements

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There are stares and whispers as I enter the Great Hall among the students, but I know that as long as I keep my face blank and my eyes empty, there will be no problems. At least…I hope.

I sit on the bench and the sixth years start sitting around me as well. Neville sits next to me and high laughter rebounds off the edges of my mind in the process. It appears as if he is trying to make himself look as small as that is humanly possible in this process, but in the end, he fails, and he just resorts to slouching over.

I have neither seen head nor hair of the last two members of what has been referred to as my "Golden Trio", thus, I am glad. If I see them…I really don't know what I'm going to do. However, I do know that it will involve a great number of illegal Dark curses that would give me motivation to be carted off to Azkaban. I will not forgive them. Not now or the eternity from now…

And who said the Golden Boy was the equivalent to a box of rocks?

The whispering continues with the persistent buzzing that doesn't seem as if it will ever cease. Even so, he is not within my mind and I find…that bothers me.

…It appears that new students are being Sorted now and I find that I cannot care in the slightest. But in spite of this, I find myself looking up at the Head table at the teachers. There's McGonagall watching the Sorting…others that I never learned the names to…Severus, looking worse for the wear, pale as a sheet of parchment…the Defense Against the Dark Arts chair is empty; I suppose you couldn't find anyone. That's a crying shame…and then, there's _you_.

I look straight up at where you sit high and superior, the all-knowing headmaster. To my faint horror and not much to considered surprise, I find that you are staring straight at me. Nevertheless, I can feel the blood drain from my face. You're very angry with me, aren't you? Why the _hell_ did I come back here?! Why _didn't_ he stop me?!

From this distance, I can detect that the barest traces of a smirk on your countenance and I wish more than anything at this moment that I could melt into the floor. I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

_Yes you are. You're _terrified

_No, I'm not! No, no, no…!_

It's almost as if he can see the change in me because the smirk widens the tiniest of fractions.

_You want to run away, don't you? _My mind says harshly in something that resembles whisper.

_TOM! _I hear myself cry desperately and pathetically.

There is no response.

Your face twists ever so slightly and you appear almost perplexed. You _know_ that something has happened that is not to your advantage. For a moment it seems that I will not be able to wrest control over my emotions and in turn my features, but in the end I do, thank the gods that I know that are not there.

Somewhere along my chest begins to hurt me a bit with soft splitting pains.

…At some point later, after the feast in which I ate so little, you get up to make your speech as it is every year that you do. I can feel myself beginning to doze, partly from the fact that I am sleepy, partly from the pains that are bothering me. Please let this be over, I want to sleep…

"…you all are now dismissed."

I rouse myself from my stupor and will my body to rise as I wish it to. I follow the mob of students out of the hallway, while one part of me pays attention to your whereabouts all the while…

…Draco catches up to me while I find myself climbing a staircase without any particular destination in mind.

"Harry, are you all right?"

I really am…tired.

"Harry?"

"…Hm?" I murmur and lean against the railing so I don't sway on my feet. …I wonder how badly I would get hurt if I just leaned over and fell from this height.

"Come on, you can sleep with me tonight. I'm not going to hand you over the Gryffindor house have you murdered in your sleep from your momentary lack of awareness."

Laughter shrieks in delight at these words. _Momentary? HA!_

…I find myself sliding down onto the steps as my grip slips from the railing.

"…I'm…………unwell…"…And I have absolutely no coordination to speak of…

I can feel myself being lifted up and I sigh out as I lean my head against Draco's chest. I hate it when he has to take care of me like this.

"Good lord, you're so thin Harry. I knew you weren't eating."

His footsteps are soft on the floor and but I am too weary to take notice that he has already reached his set of rooms that are separate from the rest from the fact that he is a Prefect. He sets me down on the bed and I hear him mutter a spell. In effect, I feel my clothing change.

It may have been minutes or hours later but Draco finally comes and lays down beside me and covers us both. He turns on his side; I on my back and listen to his breathing slow as he falls asleep. What did I ever do to deserve his consideration?

_You never deserved anything._

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My internal clock tells me it's about six in the morning when I wake in Draco's room. I draw myself up, slip out of the Slytherin rooms unnoticed, and wander down to the kitchens after showering and producing myself a new set of clothes.

The house elves turn such a great amount of attention to me that it makes me think that I was the only person in the world. After pestering me for a full ten minutes, I tell them that I will take a cup of tea and some toast.

The house elves are happy to comply and two return after a few minutes with what I requested and set down my breakfast on one of the Great Hall tables.

I stir the tea listlessly and bite off a small piece of the toast when there is a rustling of cloth beside me.

"Why are you up so early when you could sleep for another hour?"

"I just _happened_ to wake up now."

An exasperated sigh occurs at my words. "Please drink all of the tea, no matter how much you don't want to, or I will force it down your throat."

Why does everyone seem to believe that I am unable in taking care of myself?!

_Because you _are _unable to._

"Teachers shouldn't threaten students."

"I am merely giving you a careful suggestion."

I sigh and sip the tea in defeat. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"I haven't had the time for anything other than work lately."

"You should take time out for your health."

There is a humorless chuckle at my words and my lips pull for a smile. "You're such a hypocrite."

I smile offhandedly and stir the tea once more. "Yes, it appears that I am."

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My potion turns out flawlessly. It wasn't that hard to brew, and yet, everyone else seems to be having trouble with it.

I should be happy, but I'm not. Members of my house are shooting me death glares, to the hells with them, from the fact that Severus has actually told me that my potion turned out "well". But he _knows_ that I did better than "well".

_It's because you're the Golden Boy. You _have _to be perfect._

_I was never perfect at anything! I can't _do_ anything!_

_No one else seems to think that. All the classes you have gone to thus far had _complimented_ your work. _

_I-_

_You got "Outstanding" on all of your O.W.L.s, so what did you expect?_

_It was luck!_

"Where'd you go off to Harry? Everybody was so worried." The voice comes from my side and is ice cold. As I turn and meet the girl's gaze, the impulse to strike her is high.

"Does it matter? I know _you_ weren't worried. Was he mad when he found out I was gone? Did he care?" I reply in a hiss and continue to clean up my supplies. Backstabbing wench.

"He fucking beat me if that's what you're asking. I have _scars_ because of you."

"Because of _me_? It was out of your own incompetence that I managed to leave that house."

"Fuck you, you bitch!"

I smile, a smile that involves far too many teeth, at her and she backs away one step. "I thought, "you were worried about me"." I throw back her words harshly and can detect the barest traces of the Slytherins on edge. "I was right in thinking that you couldn't be trusted then. You're the one who's a bitch. Don't come near me again or I will fucking kill you."

"You think that you can intimidate me with words? You're nothing but a weak, bastard-!" Hermione clutches her throat in horror and makes a choking sound in the process.

I smile sweetly and there are muffled snickers throughout the room as I give her a wave. Severus is conveniently engaged in telling off another student so it makes the scene's occurrence look entirely by chance.

Hermione's look of horror turns to one of absolute rage so quickly it's rather sickening. She advances one step and raises an arm to strike me but the moment her arm comes down, I catch her wrist and twist it ruthlessly. She tries to pull away and from an onlooker's point of view, it merely looks as if she and I are holding hands.

I know she would have shrieked by now, that is, if she still had her voice, because I just split one of her fingers in _half_.

"Would you like me to do that again?" I ask dangerously soft. Her free hand goes to her mouth and she shakes her head wildly in disagreement. I let her go and she falls to the floor. By this time, tears are streaming down her face and she curls up in a fetal position, possibly from pain but most likely from humiliation.

I look down at her pitifully. "I hope you understand what I meant now. I hope we're clear."

I should have snapped her wrist.

As I raise my head people hastily turn away. I suppose I should be glad that Ron failed into getting into Potions. If he had been here, I would have hurt him far more than I did Hermione. Oh well…

…………

I do wish I had my knives.

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_Well, this is a pleasant alternative. _My mind mutters rudely.

_Oh shut up. _I hiss sharply, partly from annoyance, partly from the distraction of the pain in my wrist. I shouldn't…

I bring my wand across my forearm once more, and watch sadistically as the blood trails across the skin and down onto the tile.

My mind is as empty as it was yesterday from him and…it just bothers me. I don't know why…I am………lonely from this. I don't want to be here. Why did I come back?

The blood splatters onto the ground of the stall in the boy's bathroom and seeps into the cracks in the stone. The tip of my wand is scarlet reminding me of-

No!

_You _miss _him, you sick bastard!_

_No! No, I don't!_

A choked sob escapes my lips and I dig my nails into the side of my face.

_You know it's true. _

_It's not!_

Another choked sob tears free from me and I draw blood with my nails.

_Why won't you just leave me alone?!_

_Why won't just accept the facts?_

My nails graze my collarbone and I drag them further down and break skin somewhere along my chest where my heart resides. I don't want to be here!

_Then why did you come back?_

_I…I wanted to get away from him!_

_All you did was run away. You'll go back to him in the end when you're too scared to think straight. And then, you'll be back where you started. Don't deny it; you know the truth._

Silence.

My wand falls from where it had been mutilating my thigh and clatters to the floor.

_Go back to him, you stupid boy._

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A.O.T.I.F.: (laughs awkwardly)

Some people out there are extremely angry with me since Hermione acting that way is completely out of hand…

Harry's issues are catching up with him again…how sad and angst ridden…

Please understand that one, I have _no idea_ why I put Harry back in school, and two, that Harry _will not _be at school for the entire year. He'll possibly be there a few months at maximum so please don't be mad with me.

And let me make this extremely clear: Harry has not been in contact with Voldemort. The link the two share has been…disconnected since Harry boarded the train to Hogwarts so that voice that was popping up randomly in the last chapter was most likely just Harry's mind.

I'll most likely update after my break (i.e. in two weeks).

And readers, Happy Holidays!

Please review.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: It's typical the eccentric can't own anything that is of any real value.

Disclaim her: At the core, we are all the same.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Severus, Neville, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Children go watch educational children's programming television!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: Evil arises from humanity's attachment to the senses.

Chapter 24: Breaking

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It takes great effort to lift myself from the bathroom tile, but the thought of just laying down until nothing becomes of me is a pleasant idea. However, I cannot give in to this desire. I'm just so tired…

"Harry?" There is a vague sense that someone has touched me, and in that process pain lances up through my arm.

I open my eyes but see nothing but scarlet. My arm will not support me at all when I sit up, so I then end up falling back down while a soft splash accompanies my meeting the floor. A piece of myself tells me that it would be all right if I went ahead and shrieked in agony.

"Harry!"

My breath comes out in a soft exhale and I close my eyes again. There's just too much lost blood…

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"You do know that you're dreaming, right?"

I tilt my head to the side in acknowledgement and he reaches out and pulls the glasses from my face. I blink; I can still see him.

"You lost a _lot_ of blood."

I still give no reply, content in my dream world field of grass. I smile off toward nowhere in particular, and he grasps my shoulders tightly, so tightly he would leave bruises if this were real.

"Are you even listening to me?!"

The smile on my face comes back so quickly I feel ill, so I fall back onto the grass of my elaborate dream world and look up at my dream world's sky to watch the passing clouds.

"Harry!" He says yet again, as his voice nears a desperate yell.

"…I know and I don't care." I turn from him, but the smile still plays on my lips. You were right all along, and though it pains me to say this, I think that there _are_ things worse than death.

There is a silence and I stare at the blades of grass within my field of vision. "Will you kiss me?" I ask to the grass as a soft breeze lifts up and flits through the grass stems.

"Harry!"

"I know this is a dream, and that is why I am asking you." The grin on my face splits into something inhuman and I prop myself up on an elbow so I can look at him.

"You're afraid of my being straightforward toward you." He doesn't meet my maniacal eyes and I lay back down, unconcerned. "I've always thought that you had really beautiful eyes…"

"…Always…?"

"Yes, silly, always. …What is with you? You become frustrated when I won't advance with _you_, but then you back away from me when _I_ finally gain some backbone!"

"You're not yourself."

My smile widens and I find that pulling the stems of the grass causes it to become uprooted. The dirt sifts through my fingers and crawls across my palm making me think of disease. "No, I'm not. But when was I ever?"

"…When-"

"Don't even say it. You know I'm just a freak."

"You're _not_ a freak."

I raise my hand and it blocks out the sun. "…I wish I could die."

"…What?"

"But I can't. Every time I try, I can't. Someone is always there to stop me. I hate it." I mutter and my upraised hand curls into a fist causing the scars to show up clearly.

"What do you think you will gain by dying? Happiness? Peace of mind?"

"I'll gain nothing because I never wanted anything. I'll become nothing." There is a silence. I look over to where he is but he is no longer there. I sigh and return my gaze back to the sky. I wish I could die; lonely and pathetic is all that I am and will be.

But something is blocking the sky.

I blink. Scarlet eyes. I blink once more. Green eyes. …The other me…my mind self.

"I've been talking to myself this entire time, haven't I?"

"Yes."

"…And I've been so…lonely. I don't think I've ever been lonely."

"You've _always_ been lonely, but you never recognized it for what it was." A pause. "Why do you smile so?"

"I can't seem to help it; I'm hoping that I've died." My outstretched hand cups my mind self's cheek and it leans into my touch.

"…And you were also in way hoping that it was actually him that you were talking to, weren't you?"

There is a short silence and my free fingers at my side curl and uproot the grass at my fingertips. "…Yes."

"Because you're miserable, and talking to him makes you feel better?"

"…No."

"You want me to love you as he would you, don't you?"

"…Yes."

"And you're ashamed of this fact mainly because you know he won't love you and that in the end, you won't have my love either." My mind self takes my hand into its and kisses the palm. "No one loves you because you never even learned to love yourself. And you should be sad from this knowledge, but you're not."

"I'm not ashamed of anything."

"You still think he's going to hurt you even though he said that he wouldn't leave you."

"…Maybe I do believe that, and maybe I don't." I say to my mind self and drop my outstretched hand to my side.

"You haven't died," my mind self says as it traces my scar with a finger that does not match my own.

"I know."

"Then why won't you wake up?"

"Because I don't want to. Because I want…"

"-Him to come be with you?"

At these words, the pendant around my neck blazes against my skin.

"Say you do, and he will come."

"I'm not really talking to myself, am I?" I ask with a hint of something that is a nauseating smile.

"No. You never were; it was myself all along. But you knew this the whole time, didn't you?"

"I did."

There is a pause and I look beyond his face to the sky. He frowns, and he makes to touch me but for some reason…hesitates. "…What is it?"

"………Did you ever really try to understand why I won't accept anything with you?" I ask suddenly, and his hand finds its fate as it settles on the top of my head.

"Of course I did."

"Liar."

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"What were you thinking, you stupid boy!?"

I turn around and as I back away from my support, I find that my legs will not support me. I tumble gracelessly to the ground and turn my gaze upward. "I'm still not awake."

"No, you are not! What in the hell were you thinking, fading out from consciousness like that?! I thought that you died!"

"You would like that, wouldn't you? …I wish I was though." I mutter and a foot comes crashing down and snaps my wrist clean in two. I find that I'm too proud to scream like a child at this action as a hiss passes through my lips.

"I _should _kill you, but then you would be getting exactly what you wanted, you stupid, stupid boy!"

"Enough already! God you're annoying!"

"Because we're identical to one another?"

I sigh dejectedly and push my mind self's leg off my arm without effort. "We've been over this before."

"And as always, it is the same."

My mind self comes and falls down to my side in a soft heap. "I'm sorry I hurt you." It looks down into my eyes, mad ruby into blank emerald.

"It's all right; I know you were angry."

"Oh, I shouldn't have hurt you. I'm sorry," my mind self says and it pulls me into its arms. I lay my head against its shoulder and shut my eyes.

"Goodness, I said it was all right." There is a muffled choking sound as I circle my mind self's waist. "Shh, I told you it's all right."

"But I said I would never hurt you and I did!"

"I know, I know. You didn't mean it; I understand. You just wanted to comfort me and make me stop crying because it bothers you when I cry. …I don't think I ever truly believed you anyway to begin with Tom."

"I betrayed your trust!" He shouts as he breaks into a new onslaught of tears.

I smile off to the side. " I never _gave_ you my trust tobeginwith."

"You said you wanted this. You said that it would be better this way." I blink at these words and pull away from my mind self. Oh god no.

Stupid, stupid boy… 

He wasn't here ever, yet…!

…_You just don't _get_ it._

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The voice comes as if from underwater. "…Harry?"

I open my eyes and force my body to sit up. …It hurts…badly. "………What….?"

"What in the hell were you thinking? You could have _died_…!"

"…I'm all right Severus. I'm okay………" I murmur while his form splits in threes, into ones, and once more back into threes. I feel…ill. Pain spirals up toward a place I cannot follow.

"You sure as hell are not! Lay back down before you start bleeding again."

"…Bleeding?" I ask slowly as the thought is not immediately comprehended within my mind.

"Yes you idiotic child, _bleeding_. I said, lay back down."

"You're the one who should be-" I begin almost angrily but he cuts me off sharply.

"Shut your mouth and lay back down. I will call _him_ if you do not want to listen to me." He retorts matter-of-factly.

No! "No, don't do that." I say softly while the pendant's burn throbs with my heartbeat.

"Then lay back down on the bed."

I exhale softly when he pulls the covers back onto me as I lie down.

"You depleted all your magical energy with that suicide attempt… I'm surprised you even have the strength the sit up."

A cough rises in the back of my throat and I feel liquid rise as well. I'm going to choke up blood…

"Do me a favor and don't leave when you wake up. You're in no condition to do anything right now, all right?"

"Severus…you're paranoid. I…can take care…of myself."

"I've no doubt that is true, but right now it's your turn to be cared for."

"…I don't need a caretaker."

"_Go to sleep_."

"That's what…everyone tells me to do."

"Maybe it's because you need it. Now shut your eyes."

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"What has happened to you?"

I turn around in desperation. That voice…

"How did…?"

"What did you do to yourself?! Why are scars all over-?!"

I cover my mouth quickly to muffle a sob. I could just die.

"Harry."

I fall painfully to my knees and ignore the sharp agony.

"Let me help you; come back to the Manor so I can heal your wounds." At these words, I feel a tear trace a burn down my cheek as it falls and splatters on to the floor.

"Please, come to me. Nothing is worth enduring anguish such as this. I'll wait for you if you want to come alone, but just come!

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"Are you all right?"

I open my eyes and find myself looking up at Neville from the ground. Severus was right; I shouldn't have tried to venture off on my own.

"Will you please help me up?" I ask as I lift an arm.

He ignores the gesture and instead bends down and throws my left arm over his shoulder and lifts me to my feet. He then begins the long process of helping me up the stairs as I am unfit to do it myself.

"You shouldn't do these kinds of things Harry." Neville says sadly.

I feel a smile tug at my lips at the irony. "What ever do you mean?"

"This self mutilation that you think that will help your pain. It won't help anything in the end."

I yank away from his arm and strike him brutally across the face. It gives me a great pleasure at seeing a rapidly darkening handprint develop across his face.

"What would you know about pain?! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO FEEL PAIN!!"

His eyes soften; I can tell instantly that he's giving me _pity_. "Do you really think that, or are you too self absorbed to see what is directly in front of your face?"

"Shut the hell up!"

"You are out of control and someone needs _to bring you back in line_. You cannot play the part of the distraught teenager all your life; they'll lock you up in St. Mungo's one day when they finally realize that you're out of your mind."

"Like your parents?" I inquire with a ruthless edge to my voice from my anger and the pain that continues to mutate within my chest.

He smiles a little, but the smile is very strained. "You think you are better than others when you are cruel to them and have no consideration for their feelings? I should just push you down the stairs and watch you break your scrawny little neck," he says coldly as he eyes my wavering grip on the railing. "Then what would you do?"

"I'd say take me to the top step if you would like to do something properly." I reply in a forced tone as the pain within my chest increases and the urge to retch suddenly comes up.

"You're pathetic," He says in a disgusted tone and he leaves me to continue up the stairwell.

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A.O.T.I.F.: And I'm back! …Aren't I? I have a bunch of finals coming up so I may not update soon…but I'll try to anyway!

This chapter seemed to be a bunch of dialogue, I _know_, and the whole time Harry was really just talking to himself even though it seemed like Voldemort half the time. He was really out of it…

Okay, the fact that Harry's mind self has red eyes and that whole concept is just because Harry makes to be so.

I can't believe I wasn't flamed for the last chapter. Wow. I also can't believe that so many people actually like this story!

Please, the author already has enough issues to begin with. Don't push A.O.T.I.F. of a pier just because you're mad that I haven't updated. The water is so filthy.

Anyways, thanks reviewers! (smiles) (hands out cupcakes)

Happy New Year!

Please review.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't imagine that someone who believes that behind every event is a conspiracy owns Harry Potter.

Disclaim her: Reality can be painful, but it's something that you must learn to accept.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Neville, Severus, Lucius, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. (throws candy at a distance) Look, it's candy! Go get it and leave this place!

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: If you can't be yourself, then you don't deserve to be anyone.

Chapter 25: Escape

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"I'd say take me to the top step if you would like to do something properly." I reply in a forced tone as the pain within my chest increases and I have the sudden urge to retch.

"You're pathetic," He says in a disgusted tone and he leaves me to continue up the stairwell.

I smile vaguely as he walks away and slide down till I meet the steps. As I lean against the railing, I find that when I am concentrating on nothing that the pain actually increases.

_I don't want to be here…_

_Stop complaining about it and go back if being here bothers you so much._

I don't want to feel anymore. It just hurts too much. I'm…I'm such a fool. I always do things that cause me to…I try…but I…

I should never have come back!

I laugh to myself, hysteria bordering the blank sound, and pull my wand from my robes with a flourish. With movements so deft, I know they could not possibly be my own, I slash down my front and feel light pain as I tear through the skin of my chest.

I can feel my pulse beating rapidly in my throat and a sticky wetness covers my fingers, but I do not stop till I plunge my good hand into my torso and begin to move it around in search for my soul. I know it's still here because I am feeling pain.

And then my clumsy fingers meet something very warm yet very cold. It's solid, yet it has no form. I feel pain in this contact with the thing that enables me to function properly but at the same time nothing at all. I want to cry but scream in ecstasy as well.

I force my hand to pull this thing that is anchoring me to consciousness out of my bloody and ghastly insides while my mind begins to shriek and shriek at me to stop and to just let go of my poor, ravaged soul. It screams and pleads with me to just let go because don't I know nothing of what will happen to me if I continue?

Oh, but I do, that's the whole point.

I blink at the somewhat familiar voice but the soul grasped within my fingers has almost met the unclean air of death of the pure and I thus pay no further attention to that vaguely comprehendible voice of my memories. My fingers tighten around this thing that is the key to my essence and it begins to take a strain on the very core of my mind and a battle wages with my consciousness for me to remove my battered and chipped soul.

But then I'm shaken out of my stupor as someone pulls my fingers harshly from my torso. A familiar brand of magic echoes moments later as my chest is then healed.

"Why do you do these things?! I told you again and again that it would get you nowhere!"

"Go away Severus."

"No, you're going home."

"Home?" I ask slowly; the thought is exceptionally vague.

"To him."

"No, let me go. I just want…"

"Him? Yes, I know," he replies impatiently. "Now come with me."

"Stop it."

"No. Someone needs to tell you to fucking _stop_. You're going to kill yourself if you continue on like this."

"What if I want to die?" I inquire lightly and his grip tightens on my arm as he helps me up.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Everyone has just about had it with your behavior and all _he _does is put up with it. It's sickening." He states sharply and with his help, I find that I am able to stand. This is certainly a turn of events. "Come on."

"I said that I don't want to go."

"Then why aren't you trying to get away from me?" There is a short silence. Emptiness reverberates where my magic should be, and now that I've discontinued my self-mutilation, the ache in my chest returns and redoubles in its fury. "That's what I thought."

I lift my head and find that we are at the door of his office. That much time could not have passed without my knowing. What the hell?

"Riddle Manor." He says as he throws a handful of that despicable dust into the flames. I _hate _the Floo.

…

I tumble ungracefully out of the fireplace and Severus stumbles after me as well in his ill state but manages to grasp the mantelpiece just before he nearly falls to the floor.

"Are you all right Severus?" A voice asks behind me.

"Yes, I'm fine, Lucius. You don't have to worry so much."

I turn and find Lucius looking from Severus to me. The expression of anxiety does not leave his features through the process.

"I have to get back to the school."

"Go then, but remember-"

"I'll be fine," Severus says as he interrupts Lucius abruptly and the flames in the fireplace mount high as he leaves.

Lucius turns to me. "You're not going back."

I say nothing as I lean onto the back of a chair to support myself. Lucius is splitting into forms just as Severus was…and I feel as if I'm going to retch. I wish I could just crawl into a hole and never see daylight again.

"He's not here right now, but he will be back soon."

"And?" I ask dully without any real concern.

"I just thought that you would like to know."

At these words, the man comes over to where I stand and lifts me easily into his arms without even trying to get me to walk.

"It's time for you to sleep."

"I did earlier." I hear myself replying quietly and he gives an exasperated sigh.

"Fine, you don't have to sleep, but you will rest." Lucius mutters as he sets me down in the Dark Lord's bed. How…did I get here…?

I say nothing in reply and my mind cackles to itself.

"Please…"

"Yes, Lucius?"

"Never mind." He murmurs as he pulls the glasses from my face. "I love you dear."

"Yes…I know."

"I'll see you later Harry, all right?"

"…Okay."

…

How long has it been since I first laid here? I can't remember. My sight has been lost in the pattern on the canopy above me and maybe I've thrown myself into delirium as a result. My magic…I can't feel anything. It's all gone…

A part of my mind gives me a flicker of recognition in the attempt to attract my attention, and so it is then I remember why I snapped into awareness a few moments ago.

He's back.

The door swings open and I want to rise, but I find that I cannot move. A thought flits lazily through my head suggesting that I say something.

"I thought you wanted to be at school." He says quietly and a pain shoots through my skull this time around. What the-?

"I'm…not going back."

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired."

"You know that's not really an excuse." He replies in a soft tone and it is a wonder that I can hear his voice from across the room. From where I lay on the upraised pillows, I watch, without wondering why I can see without my glasses, as he sheds his outer robes which are splattered with some kind of dark substance and which I know is blood.

"Where did you go?" I find myself asking, not wanting to start any kind of argument in the state I am in, and not wanting anything for that matter.

"Does it really matter?"

"No."

"Then it doesn't matter." He replies as he strips off the rest of his clothes until he reaches his boxers. "Did you bathe?"

"No…"

"Why not?"

"I can't," I hear myself replying. I can't force any part of myself to move. "My magic…"

"What happened?" He inquires tonelessly as he approaches me. His eyes are indifferent as I meet his gaze and I know that mine mirror his perfectly.

"…I was just stupid." I finally whisper.

"Lord knows you have been." He sighs. "I would like it if you showered. You smell like blood."

"All right." I hear myself replying, and he gently pulls me from the bed and carries me into the master bathroom. I don't resist in any particular way and thus, I find it is better this way. He sets me on the counter, and I rest my head on the wall at my back as I watch him heat the water. He returns to me and pulls me to him so my head rests on his shoulder and in turn begins to undress me.

I've not the energy to say anything in protest.

_You weren't going to protest even if you could._

He somehow removes the rest of his clothes along with my own while he maintains a semi-firm grip on me. The Dark Lord then pulls me into the shower and the very hot water startles me though my reflexes won't respond.

"We're showering…together…?"

"Yes. Does it trouble you that much?"

I say nothing and let him balance me so I am leaning face first into his chest. He then proceeds to wash my back and I close my eyes from the relaxing feeling that begins to spread through my limbs.

"Are you sleeping?" He asks and he runs a hand down my cheek. Seconds pass and the only sound is of the running water.

"…No," I murmur softly though I want to say yes. He's putting me to sleep without meaning to.

"You don't mind this?"

"…No." Does he need to ask when he already knows the answer?

"Because you're so tired and not thinking straight?"

"…Maybe, but I don't…think that's why." He cleans lower on my body and if I was mentally intact, I might have protested. But as I never really was, I don't.

He washes my hair and I want to say something to him, even though I find I can't, because I…like this.

"Am I really…so inept?" I ask and he doesn't even pause for an answer.

"No." Minutes tick by and a stray thought cuts across my lethargy. I wish I could-

"You're all clean now. Give me a few minutes for myself and I'll be done, all right?"

I mumble something that I don't even recognize against his shoulder and I suppose he is finishing cleansing his own body. I am very…tired…without my magic to help support me.

The water is turned off and I feel myself being lifted once more. In some sense, I feel as if I'm bending over as he begins to towel me off as one would a young child so I open my eyes and find that I'm leaning into the crook of his arm. The Dark Lord then wraps a large new towel around my slight frame and sets me on the countertop as before.

I watch him as if from far away as he dries himself off with his back to me. His skin is so very pale and his body is slender, though not in my sickly sort of thin from what I can tell now that I'm actually looking at him. I probably shouldn't, yet I am.

_You _know_ he knows._

He turns his head a little, almost as if he knows exactly what I'm doing but says nothing as he fixes a towel across his waist. He turns toward me and then carries me out into the bedroom once more and settles me on the bed. I'm leaning against one of the bedposts without any intention at all and would have otherwise fallen over without the assistance in keeping up my posture.

He returns with clothes in his arms and I merely blink up at him; he must know I cannot dress myself. And so, he proceeds to dress me. The task could be considered extremely laborious as I cannot move an inch to save my life, but he goes about the entire task in a painstakingly gentle way that makes me feel guilty about just sitting in front of him. Merlin help me because I don't deserve anyone, least of all him.

_So, you've finally gotten over yourself have you? And it took you how long?_

"You're wrong; I don't deserve _you._"

And yet again, I say nothing in reply. What could I say even if I did have the energy to speak?

Nothing, nothing at all.

Laughter is soft against the edges of my mind and I cannot push it down no matter what I try.

"You…." The conversations we have are so familiar that they have embedded their selves into the back of my thoughts. But this time they will take a different turn…I hope.

"I won't. Trust me."

I should. It would make everything better…and I know I want everything to be better. To resist is to be stupid, which I am but do not seek to be.

_Then say you will._

"I'll withdraw your enrollment in the morning. Will you please sleep now?"

…It's all gone…all gone…all…gone…

"Harry?"

I turn my gaze to where he stands over me and I blink blankly. What?

"Are you all right…?" His eyes are flat with nothing concealed in the depths. Am I losing myself again? I…What has happened…? I don't…

"Just sleep," He murmurs as he retreats from me and then returns a few minutes later clothed.

He slides underneath the blankets fluidly taking myself along with him and settles me against his body while his arm encircles my waist. My eyes slip shut out of their own accord and it is then that I realize, even though the thought is far off, that yes, I do feel…_safe_.

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Gone…gone…gone…I still…have no magical energy. That's so…depressing. Laughter pitches off the edges of my sanity and I've come across a fond wish to cry in all my pathetic glory. It's still all gone. Now I _know_ I am nothing.

"Go back to sleep," his voice comes from somewhere above my shoulder and is slurred with sleep.

"I can't," I hear myself saying with hysteria nearly boarding my cracked voice. Why do I want to cry? I don't want to be weak.

_Yet you are._

"I told you…" his arm around me tightens a little. "…that nothing was going to happen to you. You're safe."

"This doesn't feel right. What have you done to me…?!" I cannot force out enough emotion to emphasize my rootless panic.

"You don't believe that you are awake," He states disbelievingly.

"Give me a reason as to why because…every time I do come to grips in what I believe is actual consciousness, I come to face with yet another hallucination.

"You're not imagining this."

How would he know? He isn't in my mind twenty-four hours of the day. "…I don't know what to believe anymore. Tell me what I should. Help me like you said you would." My voice cracks and I push hard on my ability to move as I brings my knees to my chest. Sobs nearly force their way out of the gaps of my fingers that I now hold to my face.

"But you said…you said you wanted to be…independent." Voldemort's voice is far away, and the weight on the bed shifts as he moves, but it is not away from me; I can still feel his fingers splayed across my stomach from the arm that is around my waist.

"You know I'm chock full of nothing. You…know I-!"

He interrupts me solidly, but his voice is low and nearly neighboring on sad while his breath makes the hairs on my neck stand on end. "And you know that you're not ready to admit those kinds of things."

"Don't let me go back. Please. I have serious…problems…just…" There are distant murmurs in the back of the dead thoughts about my sanity but I shove them down.

"Why should I stop you?" He asks slowly, and at this time it is his voice that splinters.

"Because you care about me." I reply with the words muffled through my hands.

_I so tired of being knocked around like I'm just an object. I'm just so…tired._

Are those his…thoughts? I don't remember…being in his…mind…

"Why do I? Will you tell _me_?" He asks, and the words are drawn out to a drastic extent.

"You care…because…you choose to. And I've-"

"You don't have to pity me. I know the truth…and it's okay. I'll stop. I should have known that it would be fruitless, yet I continued to try."

"But-"

"Please stop. I don't want to hear anymore."

I raise my head from my knees and find the familiar pain that abandoned me once we made contact with each other has returned and now throbs within my chest softly. I want to say something to…ease him? But I caused this, so there's nothing I can say.

"Tom…"

"…What is it?"

"I'm sorry." I hear myself saying and I force what's become of my body to turn over so I am facing him. The soft laugh that comes from his throat is broken and distressed. It is only now that I am facing him that I see a tear streak a measured trail down his pale skin.

"It's too late for that. Surely you must have realized-?" My head falls against his chest and it there I can hear his heart beating rapidly.

"Why are you crying?" I hear myself asking quietly and the moment my words meet the air they sound foolish.

"…You have to ask?" He turns just a little and his eyes meet mine, but it isn't his eyes that I see looking back at me; they're mine. "Don't look so sad. You knew all along."

"This is wrong…you shouldn't be giving up like this."

"…Why shouldn't I? You expected me to go on like this forever? I don't…"

…_want to feel like nothing anymore._

He smiles crookedly at me and I want nothing more than to- "…Please stop crying," I hear myself saying and I finally break away from listening to the only thing that really represents his life and look up at him.

"It bothers you that I can feel just the same as you do?" He asks, and his essence pulls into itself and shuts itself away.

"…I just don't like it."

"You're lying; the truth is you feel guilty for treating me the way you have for all this time."

"…I just don't like it." I repeat and my fingers clutch at my side.

"And you want to say something to make me feel better when you know there's nothing to be said." It is then that I feel a different magic tremble shortly in the air.

"I told you, I just don't like it!" My voice rises to a yell, the pain in my chest increases, and I draw my head up sharply to look up at him; his gaze is somewhere far off.

"Why do you insist on lying when you have nothing to gain?" His voice cracks and his Glamour abruptly quivers for a few whole seconds. It's _his_ magic? "Go away. I don't want…"

"I'm not going to leave."

"Please, just go."

"No, I won't."

"This isn't the time to be stubborn. Please, go."

"NO!"

He sits up so fast his body becomes a blur to my line of sight. His face has warped into an expression that is unrecognizable, and I lay where I am with fear bound into my core.

"Didn't you hear me correctly?! I said _leave_! Get the hell out of my room! I don't want to see your face again!" He arms snakes out sharply and he grasps my wrist firmly and nearly _throws_ me directly onto the floor. There is no pain as I hit the ground though I know for a fact that it should hurt. We've gone through this before…but now I don't know what the outcome will be. The Dark Lord's Glamour shakes again for a frighteningly few seconds and he looks just about ready to Crucio me until I reach my end.

"I'm not leaving!"

"Yes you will!" He yanks out his wand and it shakes as he points it directly at my heart. "Get out of here and leave me alone! I don't…want to do this anymore! I hate…the things you do to me!" His voice unexpectedly breaks, and his arm falls to his side while his wand slips from his hand and hits the floor. The Dark Lord falls to his knees sobbing brokenly and crumples down.

_Do something!_

From where I lie broken and lifeless on my side, I watch as he cries and cries like a child, as if he hasn't broken down so completely like this ever before. Did I really cause this? Deep down…I know the answer.

_You did._

I kick my senses repeatedly in order to get them into motion and want to scream in anger in the time it takes me to sit up like a normal person. I half crawl-half slide myself over to the Dark Lord's side and he inhales desperately in a devastated manner while continuing his anguish. He knows I am right there beside him. "Leave me alone."

"No. You…you need me…and…and I need…I need you."

He chokes on part of his next sob and lets out an inhuman wail. "You're_ lying!_"

"No…I'm not…I'm really…not." For once…I'm not…but knowing this doesn't make me feel any better all the same. I still made him…_cry_.

"You think it's funny when you play with someone's emotions like this? Damn it, just leave me-!"

"Shut _up_! Just shut up!"

My fingers meet his thigh. He's so cold, even through the cloth.

"…Stop it…stop…please…stop…" he moans through his fingers.

My left arm shakes as it touches his arm and he flinches in the exact manner that I do from your touch. I fingers close on his forearm and I find that the room has become oddly silent: he's stopped crying.

His entire frame tenses and he chokes distraughtly as my other arm slowly begins to pull his arm from his face. The Dark Lord pulls without much effort from my grip but I find that I actually don't, and possibly don't want to, let go. His other hand falls from his face and I stare up at him and watch as another tear slides down his cheek.

I desperately need my little remaining of what could never be called strength to stay for everything to not come crashing down from the heavens and asphyxiate me. Just awhile longer and then, I can fade because I think my magic was the only thing really keeping me here in the first place.

My hand shakes as I reach up and touch his face. My fingers tremble and he gives a weak sort of moan as if in agony as I make contact with his skin. He's so cold.

"Don't cry anymore…please…don't. I really…don't like it…it makes me…" His ruby eyes flicker off away from me though I know without a doubt that he's listening to my words. "…it makes me………sad." I whisper and my hand drops from his cheek and hits his lap.

_Weakling, tell him what you _really_ want to say._

"I just want you…to know that…I do…need you."

"…………why did it take you so long…just to say that…to me…?" he asks hoarsely.

"………………I was…………………..afraid……of what might happen…" I whisper almost inaudibly.

He chuckles faintly as he turns to face me with eyes and face blank as stone. The only thing that betrays him is another streaking tear flying down his skin. "You're _lying_."

_I'm not, _I whisper in my mind and the words echo anxiously off the corners of my mind as I send the words to him.

"That's all you know how to do, isn't it? Is it because no one loves you?" His voice is cracked but it is still mocking.

"I am loved!" My voice won't rise to a yell so it merely sounds uneasy.

"We've been over this before. You know for a fact that you've never been loved."

"Lucius loves me!"

"What he feels for you is not love; it's just pity for a useless little boy who can't care for himself. Your godfather, that was who you were going to say next, weren't you, well he doesn't love you either. He just looks out for your well being from guilt of your father's death."

I watch as he looks down at his lap to where my hand lies half curled and then as his arm slowly moves to his lap and he places his hand over mine. Ice seeps through my motionless fingers, but I haven't the energy to complete a reflexive flinch. "No one loves poor Harry Potter." His fingers grasp my own tightly, as tight as it would take to crush the bone as I did to Hermione. The circulation passes away from my hand and lightheadedness touches me on the shoulder seconds later.

Tears gather in my eyes, and pain shoots into my skull and through my chest in such a simultaneous, _flawless_ movement it takes me minutes to regain my state of mind. Oh lord that hurts. A faint cry emits from my lips as the pain assaults me once more and I feel myself hit the ground with thump as I fall on my side. The Dark Lord's grip on my hand tightens even more if that were possible.

"And subconsciously, you wanted _me_ to love you. That's why you wouldn't admit anything to me. It's because you couldn't face the possibility of rejection again. You try to play it off as if it doesn't bother you, but that's the only thing that will really give you a blow to the core, won't it?" His grip leaves my hand but I don't feel the circulation return.

My sight blurs with tears, but unconsciousness dangles just beyond my reach. My eyes try to seek out where he could possibly be, but that question disappears as his face suddenly appears before my line of sight.

The Dark Lord turns me on my back and as then abruptly presses his lips to mine while I find myself beginning cry against him in pathetic, stupid sobs that he won't let me take breath for.

_God I hate the way you make me feel_,he says in my mind and splintering pain crashes into my mind after the words making me numb in the daze that follows. I forget to breathe.

_Does it matter? You said you wanted to die_, he says mockingly. I watch as he draws up from me and one of his tears splatters onto my cheek.

Pain thunders into my mind and pierces my chest once more and I find myself unable to react. All I can do is bask in the glory that is agony. It is then that I feel icy fingers grasp my neck and squeeze as hard as would be considered I did to Neville.

My eyes follow his and I watch as he pulls his hands from my neck and begins to unbutton my pajama top from the bottom up with the most delicate of care. When he reaches the top, he leans in next to my ear. "Nobody loves my little boy. Isn't that just the saddest thing you ever did hear?"

My lungs fill with beautiful air as I begin to sob quietly. I know what's to happen, and I can't prevent this is in any way; I have neither energy nor magic. The pain that reverberates every few seconds off my soul and mind hurts like nothing I've ever had the chance to experience. It hurts even more than the soul penetration that he did.

"But I love you. I love my useless, wretched, desecrated, boy." His cold, miserable laughter filters through my ear and I feel a weight hit the floor next to me. "But he doesn't love me." Voldemort's voice drops so it is barely audible.

I shift my line of sight to my right, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his ruby eyes meet my gaze. Pain breaks into me again and again and my concentration shatters for the millionth time in a minute.

"What's become of us? Tell me, because I don't know."

_Do you really…love me?_

"Of course. Why should I not?"

_After…everything?_

"Why not? I have nothing else."

_I'm afraid._

"You don't need to be."

_I…need you. Please don't leave me._

_I told you I never was. All you have to do is trust me._

_I'm afraid of placing my trust in people because it hurts when it's broken. _

I could scream in this pain that afflicts me in places that do not exist. But I can't. Laughter rebounds off the borders of my fragmented remaining good sense and his mind intertwines with mine in what could be considered a gesture of comfort. I suppose he can't feel this pain that torments me. Maybe he thinks that I'm just ill at ease from what we're talking about.

_You said you wanted me to leave…_, I whisper quietly into the depths of my thoughts and this time the agony is so sharp that I force my eyes shut and my senses pull into their selves.

_I was very angry with you_, he murmurs quietly as he pulls me out of the corner I mentally tried to place myself in a mere moment earlier. I think he believes that cringe was from my pervious statement. He couldn't possibly know this suffering. _You frustrate me… Damn it, I can't do this anymore!_

If I were able to, I might have bitten the inside of my cheek. _Could we possibly start over?_

"Open your eyes." His smile is the very embodiment of misery as he looks down at me. His lips brush mine and it is then that I realize he's brought back the Glamour. When the Dark Lord speaks, numbness stabs my skin from where his touches my own. "It's too late for that now. You know that."

_I do care…for…you. Could we at least try?_

"I told you it's too late. I can't play these games with you anymore. It hurts now."

_You said you loved me! _My voice reaches a high point of blind panic and that groundless hurt triples and as a result, I feel something crack audibly deep within my chest.

"I _do_ love you. But I can't be with you. This is just how it has to be." He pulls back and looks at me sadly.

_Don't leave me!_

"I'll always be here. Don't worry." Voldemort's voice has a devastated quality to it that makes this situation all the more hurtful and the terrible pain that plays with my nerve endings squeezes as hard as it can to make me surrender my will on living. A bone-breaking scream breaks from my lips _at last_ and my mind soars triumphantly to insanity.

_I LOVE YOU!_

Silence at once engulfs the room and my Death hovers so close to my head I can nearly grasp it within my bony fingers. The pain…drifts away and I am nothing as I was once before. Now it is for all time. Heaven help me.

It seems that I'm taking place in an out of body experience as I watch the scene unfold from above. The Dark Lord picks up my frame that no longer contains _me_ and I watch as he clutches it tight to his chest. He whispers things that I suppose mean something to my departed self, but I couldn't know now.

I turn ever so slightly and see Death in all her finery hold out her hand for me. However, this isn't the natural manifestation of Death that has cared for me time and time again.

"Mother?"

"Come with me Harry. Everything is all right now." My deceased mother's arm stretches to me but I shy away just a little.

"But…what about him…?" I ask softly and point to where the Dark Lord holds me within his arms.

"It doesn't matter anymore dear. Come with me and we'll go see your father. We've been waiting for you for so long." Her smile reflects my empty eyes.

"I can't; he needs me." I say quietly with the words sounding unfamiliar to my ears.

"But it's your time."

"…I'm going back to him. I know…what I need now." She makes to grasp my arm but I pull farther away and finally hear what he's whispering to my corpse. Oh no.

Stop! Don't! Please don't! My soul whispers on the air. He pays no attention to my words that have no sound and continues to murmur the meaningless words to my corpse.

I float around his head for moments as I relish the feeling of being deceased engulfing my senses. But then I touch my colder than death fingertip that is sprawled off to the side free from his clutches of my right hand and the soul that I am is pulled back into my broken shell of a body.

…

My eyes open and as I inhale luxurious air into my lungs and the breath rattles through my chest I recognize his voice whispering nonsense above my head. My head lies against his chest and I listen to the slow _irregular_ beat of his heart for minutes, possibly hours, and I lie in absolute rapture in the glow of the tangled, yet wonderful feeling it causes to spike in my chest.

It takes a few minutes for me to remember how to speak and I remain muddled until I find the cache of my memories.

"…………………T-Tom…?"

His entire frame goes rigid and I actually hear his heart _stop_ for a fraction of a second.

"…HARRY?!" The Dark Lord's voice is a scream that spirals and reverberates off the high ceiling and he holds me even tighter than before to him. And…I don't want him to let go. "Oh god! You're not dead!"

I can feel that he's close to hyperventilating at this point, but I cannot move my limbs to try and calm him down, but I don't think it's wise to tell him that I _was _dead for possibly more than a few minutes.

…I'm so tired though…I couldn't do anything even if I tried…and my previous pain is has returned, however lessened it may be it still hurts me.

"I thought I'd lost you forever…oh god…and it felt like I had died as well."

"…I'm so cold…hold me…and please…don't let go." My voice comes out in a whisper and my mind seeks out his. I know what I need…and I know…I'm not going to ignore that anymore. His mind pulls my own to him, and he interweaves his own into mine and thus he supports my tired and muddled self.

"…Don't leave…you said you were…going…away…you couldn't be with me…?"

"No…no…I'll stay…I'll stay."

"…You'll…_be_ with me…?"

"Yes…I won't leave your side…"

My voice is nearing on silent on my next words. "I'm…sorry for…all those things…I put you through…I don't deserve you…"

"It's okay…it's okay…I love you all the same. I was just very angry…I said things I shouldn't have."

"…I…love you…too…" My voice fades out from my weariness but my words are sincere. I do…love him. Maybe I…always have.

I feel my eyes slowly close and my body relaxes completely against his. The sound of his heartbeat reaches my hearing once more but this time the beat of his heart is regular again, and the sound tugs on my consciousness to finally give in to realm of oblivion. And I do with my mind held in his protective embrace.

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A.O.T.I.F.: (pencil snaps) That's what I thought. Goodness this took _forever_ to write…I had to bring him back from school, had to have him have a revelation…face losing Voldemort entirely…the list goes on and on.

I then realized that there were actually a lot of implications on the things that happened like with Harry dying, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Anyways, I don't know where Harry taking out his soul and later on _dying_ came from…I must have been out of it from finishing this at two o'clock in the morning…

Yes, Harry admitted he was afraid, _yes_ there were a bunch of repetitive points that I _myself_ hated doing, and yes, Voldemort _cried_. How dramatic.

This is going to end soon in a possible five or less chapters only because I have to tie up a major amount of loose ends (Neville and his Death Eater concept (since one of my reviewers was irritated about how I didn't explain it and all), confrontation with Dumbledore, etc.).

Harry and Voldemort are going to, ahem, as some people put it, "get it on" in the next chapter, _possibly_. Did you hear me, I said _possibly_! No death threats! I get enough of those daily without needing any online.

(kicks desk hard) And my finals are done at last. Thank goodness. (sighs) I hope I get passing grades.

Please review.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: When you see things that others can't, I suppose it means that you can't own anything significant.

Disclaim her: Love is destructive.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature. Why do I even bother to give a warning…

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: The unspoken words sometimes give the most meaning.

Chapter 26: Love

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"Are you happy?" He asks quietly as he gently strokes my hair. I am currently leaning against his shoulder at peace with myself, which has never happened before.

"Happy about what? What do you…mean?" My voice neither rises nor falls: I have not regained the energy to perform any kind of activity. It has been three days. He doesn't know about the issue with my magic. At least, I hope he doesn't. But even if he did…he hasn't said anything.

"Are you happy being here with me? You didn't…?"

"Yes…I am." I reply softly and ignore the insinuation of his last statement. His fingers run across my palm making me want to shiver when I am unable to. He is lukewarm now, not the deathly cold that he was before though I know for a fact that he is not of a normal body temperature. He's not okay…

"I'm okay…you don't have to worry about me…honest."

He's not; I'm not…No one is. How…sad. A bitter chuckle escapes my lips and his fingers curl around my own tightly in apprehension; he's worried.

"Is everything all right?"

"Of course; why would it not?"

He presses his lips to my forehead and lifts me into his arms. My legs hit each other and my head folds inward so my chin hits my chest. I've finally realized what was bothering me all this time and that I could not put a name to. I have that Muggle ailment they call anorexia.

I'm just empty through and through.

Wind whistles through the hollow place within myself where my magic should be, and my senses fail me once more. I can't seem to concentrate as he sets me at the dining room table and I know that I should not be seeing sounds. How…odd. Colors morph into once familiar figures, and it is possibly minutes later when I come to grips with the fact that this was only because he replaced my glasses.

_You're so stupid. Tell him what's happened to you. Let him help you._

_He won't like it._

_And? It doesn't matter any. Just tell him the truth._

My head lies against the back of the chair as I watch him from the corner of my eye pull a chair up beside me. He's…this is so humiliating. He raises the spoon to my lips and I open my mouth just slightly in obedient compliance. I can do nothing else. I…just wish…

"…Tom…?"

"Yes?" He tilts a glass of water to my lips as well, and I nearly can't swallow the liquid.

"I need…to tell you something."

"What is it?"

My eyes meet his from an impossible angle and he gazes at me with such worry I want to cry. This isn't right. He shouldn't be taking care of me like this! Oh God… "My magic…remember I told you…something had happened…?"

"Yes, but I remember that you wouldn't elaborate on the matter."

I turn my eyes to the ceiling where I play a nice imaginative game with myself where I am a perfect pretty role model for all the other little wizarding boys. "…My magic…is gone."

The silence I am presented with is earth shattering. My mind shuts into itself with reckless abandon and I am left in the horrible aloneness of the quiet and him. All alone.

"…What?"

"…It's gone." I reply in a whisper and madness hangs in the eaves draping itself like one of those soul-stealers' shadows.

"How can it be gone…? What did you do?" He asks fearfully almost as if he doesn't want to know the answer.

"I tried…to remove my soul…before this."

"When?!" His voice is a wail that breaks the eerie calm settled into the woodwork of the dining hall.

"Days ago…I can't remember precisely…"

The silence returns once more and my existence is uneasy in this change in him: he's not giving me some tearful lecture.

"Tom?"

"What do you want me to say? Christ, I never would have thought…oh God."

I knew it; I knew it all along. What a two faced- "So this is the end?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I knew you wouldn't like it."

"Who would? What you tried to do is even worse than death…!"

"And you wouldn't know about that, would you?" My voice hovers on anger and other emotions I cannot convey correctly.

"No, I wouldn't. I have never died." He replies and the spoon he sets down into the bowl makes a dull chink against the china.

"Are you upset with me…?"

"Don't you already know the answer to that question?" He asks and out of the corner of my eye I watch as he leans back in his own chair with a resigned sigh. I wish he would strike me; he's never hit me after all, has he?

"This explains…just about everything." His words tumble around in my head for moments, but I still cannot understand what he means. What was there to explain to begin with? "But it doesn't help me understand what's happened with your-"

It's like a switch hits in my head right when he utters his words so I become deaf when I see his lips form the words I know he is saying. However, then my hearing returns and his utterance remains unacknowledged. I'm not crazy; I'm just not like everybody else.

I'm…fine.

I'm happy even.

_How dare you lie to yourself like that?! You don't even know what it means to be happy!_

No. I'm happy.

_LIAR!_ My mind loses all composure as it becomes beside itself in anger and it in turn procures a disastrous headache to fog my senses once more.

I must have made some kind of sound because he is at my side holding me against him in an instant so fast that I cannot measure the time. I can hear his heart beat with that distressed rhythm of worry again as pain strikes me second after bloody second and some fragment of worry comes to me this time.

"It's okay…it's okay…I'll make it go away."

He slides a hand into my hair and a small smile tries to form onto my features as a result. He doesn't understand this…pain.

"Pain? What's wrong?"

"…My head hurts…that's all."

"…You shouldn't be in pain. All sensation in your body should be numbed."

_You're not happy._

"…Help me up…please. …I want to stand."

_Yes, that's it, prove me wrong._

"You can't; what are you talking about?"

I'm not a fucking invalid! "…Please…help me stand."

He rises in apparent exasperation as he pushes back his chair and pulls out my own. He throws my arms around his neck and I remain limp against him as my feet touch the wooden floor.

I cannot convey the proper messages from my brain to my limbs, and I want to scream out in frustration: this shouldn't be so hard.

"I told you; you don't have the ability to do that right now."

I will not be weak! I have the ability to stand up for myself but I can't access it! Damn it! My…magic shouldn't matter! I don't need it…!

"…Do you want me to try and help you?"

"Yes."

The Dark Lord sighs almost in surrender as he places the palm of his hand directly over my heart and an unexpected flood of power strikes through my chest and through the rest of my limbs. My lips part in surprise and my head strikes backward causing an awful strain on my neck.

In that process, my arms slip from his neck and my legs buckle and give out from under me. My bottom hits the carpet and the rest of myself slumps forward.

"Try to rise now." There is a swish of fabric and his fingers grasp my own as he pulls me without a seeming effort to my feet. Oddly enough, even though I do sway for a few horrid moments, I do not fall. His grip on my fingers slips and I realize that he's breathing laboriously.

I twist my neck so I am gazing upwards and look up directly into his eyes. A smile shakes dangerously on his features and after a moment disappears entirely.

"I am very tired," he says quietly and I take a wobbly step forward without meaning to. My foot meets the ground solidly and a small piece of my pride complex regenerates and blossoms deep behind my conscious thoughts.

"What did you do?" I inquire almost gently, and I watch as his frame tilts to the side and he stumbles as he loses his balance.

"Will you take me upstairs…? I'm afraid I don't believe I will be able to."

"All you had to do was ask," I reply and my next steps waver but hold firm to the ground as I take hold of his forearm and begin to lead him shakily upstairs. No resistance is formed and I have half a mind to ponder why.

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There is a meeting…I should…go…?

No. I have no place there. It's not right.

_Go, you stupid child. It is your _rightful_ place to stand beside him._

_You're wrong._

_GO._

I pull the hood of my cloak over my face and open the door that adjoins the meeting hall and the small hall I am standing in. The voices that I heard moments before cease at my entrance and I shut the door quietly behind me.

He sits in his seat on the dais and all Death Eaters turn to face me as I take one step after another to where he sits. One of my legs feels like it is about to collapse on me and I curse the fact of myself not retaining my magical strength.

I mustn't fall!

My footsteps are soft on the stone and I climb the few steps to where he sits painstakingly slow in the effort to not collapse upon my own face. And the deathly silence pertains to only heighten my anxiety. I reach the top and stand before him forcing every last bit of control over my body in order to not tilt to the side.

His lipless mouth nearly seems to form a smile, and I can't bear to move. In another scenario formed by my deceitful mind, he pulls a wand and uses the Killing Curse on me. But this is not now.

I watch as his arm snakes out and reaches for my own as he proceeds to stand. He sets me onto his seat and stands at my right. How…ironic.

Mutters break out for moments but the Dark Lord makes no motion to stop them and as they see him standing in front of them calmly, the whispers dissipate almost immediately. His spider like fingers grasp my shoulder very gently and my mind flickers like a dying light bulb at the calming force spreading through my limbs.

_Don't worry love, they won't attack you; half already know who you are anyway._

_I'm not afraid. I just…felt like I should come. Are you……angry with me?_

_Of course not; you're being ridiculous._

In my devious and cold-blooded mind, the Dark Lord's nails pierce my shoulder and dig in to break my collarbone. Why am I taking in these different possibilities as real?

His voice breaks into my rambling thoughts sharply and I look up as a result.

"This is my partner. He will be treated as my equal and is my second-in-command. If I hear of any word that he is not being treated as such, my wrath will be hell. Am I clear? The Dark Lord says in a dangerous voice that I have never heard before.

_Can you see Bellatrix child? Can you see her glaring at you? _My mind whispers snidely and I search her out. The woman shifts her stance restlessly and I can see her pale brown eyes narrowed through her Death Eater mask. I'll kill her.

_With what? You don't have any magic. Are you going to get a Muggle handgun and shoot her? _The jab by mind is cut throat and I don't have an immediate reply to counter it.

"I have called you here in order to clarify a few matters on the attack of the Hogwarts castle. Fenrir, Remus you two will be with the other werewolves in the Forbidden forest awaiting Avery's signal. You have my permission to do whatever is necessary to subdue the students. Severus, you will open the gate for Black, the Lestranges, and the rest to get into the school. Most of the teachers have turned so they will most likely offer you no resistance. If a student gets in your way, you will kill them. However, if you find a girl called Hermione Granger, she is to be taken prisoner.

And for the old man. He is mine but if Dumbledore joins the fray, avoid fighting him at all costs and Disapparate to the forest. I will take down the wards in order for you to do so. And Lucius, you will be with me and my partner." Here he pauses and I feel his gaze on my head. I shift slightly and look up to meet his eyes and watch as a tiny smile forms on his lipless mouth.

_You want me to tell them who you are?_

_Who cares?_

My mind giggles in the back round at those words. _Some are going to consider this an ultimate betrayal. The Dark Lord and Harry Potter. Who would have thought?_

_You really don't mind? _He asks once again.

_Nope. _I mutter quietly and swat away my teasing mind, which holds a picture of Voldemort holding up my severed head to the crowd watching below him. …Guillotine?

"I know many of you are wondering who my partner is and I will show you." he pulls my hood down and my face is in view for all to see.

Many people gasp, but an equal number remain silent. I know how I must appear to them because I looked at myself in a mirror in passing on my way here. My face is haggard, that is the only proper way to describe it as I found I could feel my cheekbones as if there was merely a layer of some kind of thin plastic separating it and my fingers. My eyes are dulled and there are bags under them, my hair falls to my shoulders in waves and my glasses are crooked with the lens on one part almost completely cracked through.

A vague smile finds my face and stretches the skin to make me look, I only know because I did this in the said mirror, dead.

"There will be no attempts on his life. Am I clear?"

Murmurs of agreement scatter throughout the room and I tilt my head to the side so I am leaning against the arm that rests on my shoulder.

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I've really gotten thin.

I stand in the nude in front of the body length mirror in the middle of the room looking at myself for no real reason.

The white scars on my arms stand out clearly and the one on my chest from you is nearly an ugly sort of pale yellow. There is what appears to be a bruised area right above my heart, which I think is from my attempt to pull out my soul. It still hasn't gone away…

My ribs protrude clearly from my chest and I notice another scar, no quite as clear as any of the others on my lower abdomen. I've…never seen it before.

A strangled laugh escapes my lips as I turn and look at the back of myself. There are countless scars on my lower back and an extremely vile one on the back of my leg inches below my right buttock. There are some nasty scars on the backs of my legs as well. My legs are as stick thin as are my arms and I can feel every single bone in them.

As I turn back around, I realize that I'm not wearing the pendant he gave me. Where did it go…?!

The door of the bedroom abruptly opens and I turn my head to see the Dark Lord walk in. He doesn't immediately, or at least I think he doesn't, seem to recognize my presence. As he shuts the door, he turns and I see his eyes widen in surprise and, to _my _surprise, in embarrassment.

I turn back to the mirror and watch in reverse view as he comes to stand behind me. His eyes are on my face and a crooked smile comes to my features as I stare at him in his Voldemort guise.

"Are you all right?"

"You like _this_?" I ask softly gesturing vaguely to my frame. "I'm revolting…why could anyone…"

"It's not your fault that you can't eat."

My mind sniggers rudely and presents yet another scenario for me to look at where the Dark Lord stabs me with a knife in the back.

…The blade goes all the way through.

_It's _never _your fault, is it, you stupid boy?_

I don't say anything, and I still don't say anything as he places his arms loosely around my waist. I lean into him like a wraith caught on a branch merely waiting for the wind to blow it away.

"Strip." I say quietly, almost to myself.

"What?" His voice appears startled.

"Strip."

"Why?"

The figure in the mirror smiles but I don't as the words form on my lips. "Just because."

"You're sure…?"

"Yes."

He removes his arms from around my waist and I watch as he moves a little ways away from me and begins to undress carefully. Garment after garment falls to the floor and my eyes remain transfixed on him. He stops at his boxers and meets my gaze through the reflection in the mirror; I have not looked at him face to face since he entered the room.

As I meet his gaze unblinkingly, he steps out of the last piece of clothing on his body and returns to his position of remaining halfway behind me while his arms encircle me as before. His bare frame presses lightly against me from behind and I nearly tense from years of conditioning.

"If you're uncomfortable, I'll move away."

"I'm fine." My eyes drift downward to where his fingers are interlocked together and pull one arm up and disband his hands to intertwine my own fingers with the ones of his right hand. "From the state I am in right now, realistically speaking, if we had sex I would probably get hurt, wouldn't I?"

His eyes drift off to the side. "…Most likely."

"Do you want to see?"

"…What?" His ruby eyes return and meet my own quickly.

"Do you want to try and see if I would get hurt?"

"No, because I already know you will. Why are you asking anyway? I know…you don't want to do those kinds of things…with me."

"…I'm just curious. And you're mistaken."

"About what?"

"About that." In the mirror, my face smiles back at me with the palm pressed against the glass of the mirror world like a figure half-dead. "Touch me."

"You can't be serious." His features freeze.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Scratch that. I'm smiling in the mirror, aren't I?

_You're hallucinating._

_Shut up!_

"…I can't."

"Let me guess, it's because-" I mutter softly.

"It's _not_ because of that!" he says quickly, _desperately_.

I am not weak!

_Yes you are._

"Then why?" 'Because you think I'm weak.'

"Because…" The known unspoken words lie heavy in the air and I flinch away from my mind's brutal mental slap.

_Because he can't bear the thought of lying with you._

_Shut the hell up!_

He pulls me away from the mirror and leads me to the bed where he easily picks me up and settles me on the sheets. He climbs in after me in a careful sort of way and I sit up just because I feel uncomfortable lying down at the moment.

The Dark Lord presses his lips to my cheek gently and I do nothing. He then kisses me properly and I lift a hand and press it to the back of his neck. He is still so cold.

He has not closed his eyes, so I am looking directly into his ruby ones; I find that they're just as blank as my own. He then pulls my cracked glasses from my face but I find that I can still see him just as before only now the Dark Lord is a little blurry around the edges.

His tongue is against my lips and I open my mouth slightly to give him access to what he wants and he and I play a game of sorts within my mouth for a while after which he gains dominance and pins my tongue to the roof of my mouth as before.

I watch as he pulls back slightly and leans his head against my own.

"You weren't pulling a stunt."

"Nope."

He kisses me again but this time with more force, and with the hand that is on his neck, I pull him down on top of me and cause him to make a pained sort of sound in the back of his throat.

…But it doesn't matter. I can't…I don't know what it is. Something is wrong.

…This time I pull him to me, and I kiss him chastely multiple times before pulling back. The Dark Lord kisses me on the neck and lets his fingers trail across my chest and down my side, making me repress a shiver as he meets my thigh. But after that he draws off me, and I reach a hand out to pull him back.

But he dodges my arm and I watch through an almost haze as his spider-like fingers touch the inner part of my thigh fleetingly. He continues to touch me in such a manner until an urge to kick him from the way he prolongs the matter but at the same time makes a twisted feeling gather in my lower abdomen.

His Voldemort guise face forms a small smile as he looks at me; he morphs into the Glamour form.

"Which one do you like better?"

"I don't really care."

Nevertheless, his hand drifts away and he edges up the bed in an oddly appealing fashion, causing my mind gives a bout of rough laughter.

He falls on his side next to me, and I meet his burning gaze out of the corner of my eye. He arm inches up and falls on my abdomen where he begins to trace circling, intangible patterns across my skin. However, his eyes remain on my face, hawk-like and predatory.

"Do you want me to stop touching you?" his voice is quiet.

I frown. "……Whenever you touch me, you don't _touch_ me."

I can't explain it. This isn't touching…it's like something impersonal, like he can't connect properly. It's like he's distancing himself from me no matter how many times he's put his skin to mine.

Something flickers in his eyes as I turn my head toward him. "Do you understand me, or does it sound like I've finally cracked?"

A zealous smile comes to his face and I blink at the change in him. "I wasn't sure if you would notice." The room suddenly seems to get about fifteen degrees hotter as he removes his hand from me and my mind abruptly silences itself. "The touch didn't seem to 'connect'…the fact that you were aware of that proves that you are ready to be with me. If you didn't take notice than it would have meant that you still needed to recover from _him_."

He gives a wordless smile and I feel myself flush in embarrassment.

He moves himself so he is straddling my waist, and this time his touch on me in _fire_. I can't hold back my wordless moan from the contact of his cock with mine and distantly I hear his burning hiss.

**Soulmates.**

**Yessssss. **My words drag out in a hiss just like his own as he bends down and kisses me passionately. His hands make contact with everywhere on my upper body while I want nothing more than for him touch me where he knows I _need_ it.

His fingers graze my neck as he places an odd assortment of butterfly kisses around my neck and down my collarbone. He kisses the scar of the sword on my chest and I feel magic touch that very spot a split second later.

His aura is even more overpowering than it was before, and it reaches out to seek my own which hides behind my fractured soul. His aura draws at my own and painstakingly pulls it little by little out in the open to where it should have been before.

I nearly scream in the sensation of magic touching magic and it does not occur to me at the time that I have gotten my magical energy back. He kisses me feverishly on the lips again and I feel his arm trail down my skin again only this time it scorches me.

His fingers are on fire as he touches my cock, and he rubs my length and then cups me within his fingers. Coherent thoughts desert me as he pulls me up from the bed and tugs me into his lap, and I give a muffled groan into his shoulder as he runs as hand up and down my back, caressing me in such a manner that he causes my back to arch and for me to throw my head back in ecstasy.

I want to melt in the feelings he procures in me.

"What is it?" His voice is rough with desire and my insides twist in unexplainably in what I think is pleasure.

"I don't know. I'm-" A small laugh from myself chokes off my words, and I smile genuinely up at him.

"What?"

"I'm at ease." I say with the smile still on my features: the words feel funny on my tongue.

He whispers something stupid into my ear, and I laugh again while pulling my body up from its arch; I place a hand on his cheek. He turns his head slightly and presses his lips to my palm and the heavy and suffocating mood returns with its sense of urgency.

The Dark Lord has his hands on my backside once more and I unthinkingly wind my arms around his neck while he pulls me closer to him, which is all I really want. I want to be as close to him as is humanly possible. Frustrated, I let out an irritated groan into his shoulder and my arms around his neck tighten.

He appears to understand my distress and his hand wanders farther down my back and settles somewhere below my waist. His voice is low when he speaks and makes me shiver. "I'll go slow. If you start to feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop."

I bury my face into his shoulder and my words come out trembling. "……….I'm…………afraid." Why should I lie about such a matter?

"It will be all right; I promise." His whisper makes me cling tighter to him and I force myself to not start shaking.

_Relax._

His fingers quest my backside for several moments when I abruptly feel it.

My body tenses automatically and my nails dig sharply into his back as he moves in me slowly and unhurriedly. I unwind from the nerve-wracking spiral I shot myself into and my body gradually settles down: it doesn't hurt…it just feels strange.

_That's my boy._

The Dark Lord adds another digit into me and I tense momentarily only because the reflex is automatic. After I relax again, he begins to spread his fingers inside me, stretching me and loosening the tension that had gathered. There is a fluttery feeling in my stomach making me content and I close my eyes against his shoulder. I am…

He inserts a third and final finger into me and this time my body remains relaxed against his. But then he hits something so unlike I've never felt that my eyes snap open in surprise and I give a startled cry from the breathtaking emotion that hits me.

He continues to carefully stretch me for a few moments until he unexpectedly removes his fingers from my body. My eyes, which had been closed again, open warily but I do not sit up. Lying against him creates the concept of being at ease, and I like this foreign emotion that frees me of worry.

_Are you ready?_

…_Yes. Just please…don't hurt me._

_I'll go slowly, okay? Just tell me if you want me to stop._

…_All right. _If I had spoken out loud, my voice would have shaken badly.

Voldemort lifts me up a little and shifts slightly so I in turn see his member. For a moment, panic strikes me: how could that possibly fit inside _me_? And now since he's moved, I want to see what he's going to do even though I already found out about this whole process the hard way.

The moment he starts to push into me I feel as if something is going to tear in me because of the pain and it takes a great effort to not choke up a sob and start crying. I want to tell him to stop…!

When he's buried to the hilt, it's then I realize that my nails are digging into his back so hard that I've actually broken the skin and drawn blood.

"If it hurt that much why didn't you tell me to stop?" He draws back and holds me at an arm's length to gaze at me. I don't meet his eyes precisely, but he grips my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me to stop?" his voice is little more than a whisper and I pull away from him and bury my head into his neck.

_Will you let me get used to the feeling? …It still hurts a little._

"You still want to do this?" He asks incredulously.

"I know you're not doing this intentionally……it's not your fault that this hurts. I'm sorry……I'm so pathetic. …I'm sorry."

"Oh, love, it isn't your fault. Don't apologize," he murmurs as he shifts so he can lay me down onto the bed. Through this, he shifts inside me, causing him to hit the place he did before, but this time it is far lighter. A stifled groan manages to barely pass my lips and my previous pleasure suddenly spikes up again as I abruptly arch up.

Where I was once cold I burn and as he takes silent understanding on this not so subtle way of telling him to continue, I reach up and wind my arms around him as before. He spreads my legs and I wrap them around his waist, which causes him to consequently sink deeper into me. I give a broken wordless moan in Parseltongue and he hisses back syllables that mean nothing but only serve to stimulate the feeling in my abdomen to awaken.

I loosen my legs a little as he pulls back and his thrust back into me is sharp with force and I am startled again as he hits that place of pleasure within my body hard and I give an uncontrolled cry of rapture. As he thrusts back into me again, I use my legs to pull him further into me as I push the heels of my feet with strength I did not know that I had previously had into the middle of his back. Doing this only serves to make me arch my back and so every time that he drives into me, he slams into the place that is now making me scream in ecstasy.

His rhythm becomes faster but all the while, we stay in perfect sync and the feeling in my abdomen begins to threaten to overwhelm me. His increasing in pitch moans match my screams and his aura touches with mine and I feel the merging of all magic and life together as I feel myself getting closer and closer to I feel as if I am going to overflow. The Dark Lord proceeds to give a few more hap hazardous thrusts into me before I hear his sudden keening cry in Parseltongue as he releases into me and as a result causes me to find my own release as well.

Voldemort pants for a few good moments until I pull his down on top of me from the fact that I know that he wouldn't collapse on me voluntarily. His breathing returns to normal after a few minutes along with my own as we both replenish our oxygen deprived lungs. He then makes to pull out of my body and somewhere along that moment I realize that I have regained my magical abilities and my magic itself because I wish the splatter of my seed on him away and it actually disappears.

He lies on his side with ruby eyes half-lidded, and he draws me toward him wearily with care as he enfolds me gently into his arms and I hear him fall asleep gradually. This is a feeling that is _right_. Every piece of everything in my pathetic deprived body has gained an equal just like in whole I have gained a partner. I am no longer empty inside; I'm complete and whole and at peace.

I'm at peace.

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A.O.T.I.F.: This was so frustrating and I'm not talking about the chapter! I'm so sorry I didn't update! All this crap was going on, I didn't have any time to do anything, and I tried really hard too! These teachers at my school are ridiculous! I don't need to write a page or five on symbolism in the book _Lord of the Flies_! (kicks desk) (pause)

(sighs) O-kay, I'll stop ranting now, sorry.

Anyways, if any of you reviewers are still there (hopeful look up), thanks for bearing with me!

This chapter was a bitch to write now that I think about it only because there was so many random things going on, etc. The sentences are a bit fragmented as well. Again, I'm sorry.

And for those perverts out there, get over yourselves and don't flame me because I didn't but enough description into the last scene. I was tired and it was again two o' clock in the morning. I just wanted to finally finish this chapter after not posting for about two months and if you still flame, screw you!

I hope you're happy though, after wasting my time for who knows how long, because Harry and Voldemort finally screwed and thus a new phase in their relationship. (laughs) No worries however, this is going to end soon as I said before.

Please review.


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: (sticks out tongue) I can't possibly own something like Harry Potter.

Disclaim her: Unit 01 has finally awoken.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Severus, Bellatrix, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: A friend whom you have to buy may never be worth what you have to pay.

Chapter 27: Tension

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"So, are you going to tell me? I know you did something with him."

These words have no effect on me as I continue with the braid I'm working on in Lucius' hair. …But my lips still distort and form a smile.

"It…isn't of any concern."

"Don't give me that kind of crap. Did you two…have sex?"

Why should I lie about the matter? "…Yes."

There is a moment of stunned silence and I sigh as I let the nearly finished braid fall from my fingertips. Here it comes. "…What?!

"Yes, we had sex."

Lucius twist's his neck to an extremely odd angle to look at me as he meets my unconcerned eyes.

"So what happened?!"

"…I do not think that you need to know the details of what does on between he and I behind closed doors, Lucius." I pull him to me and he relents as I place my arms around his waist. "…He didn't hurt me."

"…I would not think that he would, love. I just worry about you is all." His arms twine loosely around my middle and I feel a smile into my shoulder.

"Do you remember how you and I first met?"

A smile plays on my lips and I laugh very softly. "Yes. We met in Knockturn Alley." And of course, he didn't know I was Harry Potter at the time either.

"I found you extremely charming."

"Did you now? You never told me that."

"Ah, well you never did ask about it love."

"So you found me attractive? Why didn't you make some kind of move on me?"

"I hardly think that you were of age."

I remember now, I think I was about twelve. "These matters apparently don't mean anything to you when you go to whorehouses."

He makes a reprimanding sound but ruins the effect as he kisses my forehead gently. "What I do with my spare time is of no consequence."

_Call him on it. Ask why all the boys he picks look just like Draco._

I pointedly ignore my mind at these words. "Why don't you just get together with your son?"

He smiles very slightly into my shoulder.

"What?"

"He came home today."

"…Why? Isn't school still in session?"

"…The school doesn't know he came home. He came via Floo."

"Ugh…So what happened?"

"He wanted to know if he could take a leave of absence for…an indefinite amount of time."

"And…?" I ask as I roll my eyes.

"…I told him that I did not mind."

"And?"

"And nothing. What else do you want me to say?"

"What did he do?" My words are against the cloth of his shoulder and are muffled.

"He-" I smile just barely from his next words.

"…That's good." My thoughts drift away as lethargy settles into my bones and I pull away from him slowly. "I'm going to see Severus. Has he gotten any better?"

"…No. The Dark Lord is going to see him later today however."

"You make it sound like he's bed ridden." There is a silence and I watch as Lucius averts his eyes. "Fuck…! What in the hell happened?"

"…Go see him yourself. I can't…" His voice nearly fades from hearing and I pull away abruptly, all tiredness forgotten.

"…I'll see you later Lucius." My mind pokes me irritably and I realize this is the first time all day that I've let down my guard. However, as it hits me, I spear it ruthlessly and it retreats sourly to nurse its wounds.

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When I enter the room, I find him laying on his side and apparently asleep. But appearances can be deceiving.

"…Harry…?"

I move quickly over to his side and bend down so I am at the same height that he is.

"What has happened to you Severus? Why-?"

"Calm yourself. I don't want you hyperventilating…"

I've been so self absorbed that I haven't paid attention to what has been happening around me! Oh God…

"Oh God…oh God…." He shuts his ebony eyes and I watch as he breathes out softly. "Let me help you! For the sake of your life, let me help you!"

"…You have to understand that I know I'm dying."

"WHAT?! Jesus Christ, you're not going to die!"

"…You don't have to try to reassure me…" His voice is little more than a whisper and I find a sob choke my throat.

"No! You're not going to die!" I scream and he smiles very slightly.

I reach out and place my hands on his chest. My magic flows through and through me and I feel unknown strength come from somewhere from within and aid me. As my magic flows through him I search out the cause of all this stress and my magical energy finds deterioration almost immediately in his lungs and his heart.

…Poison.

But my magic wipes it out completely and I distantly hear a sharp gasp of repressed emotion. Again, my energy finds rotting flesh in every vital organ in his body and it takes much effort to completely purge it from him. …I'm not sure how long I've been at this but…I am beginning to tire, if only very slightly.

…And this is very hard.

My magic reaches deep into his chest after I clear out the virus from his bloodstream in a painstakingly slow manner and I find his soul. And what I find is utterly repulsive.

Large fractures have appeared in hairline cracks on the surface and I hear a low moan of utter agony from him as I touch it with my magic. But then something pierces through my fingers and I hiss out in pain from the shock.

My mind shrieks in the sudden penetration so I am forced to turn my attention to myself and I find the virus has entered my frame and is starting to gnaw at my soul. I don't know where I am; all I know is that burning pain circles pain and I have no way to stop it.

…_Partner…! _

_Harry?!_

_Partner, it hurts…!_

My mind screeches angrily and while I cower back from the hurt, it fights back brutally and as the foreign substance begins to fall, I feel as if I'm hearing a phoenix song…

…It disintegrates at last and I feel myself slide off the edge of the bed and to the floor. Leaning against the frame, I concentrate on breathing. …Just breathing…

…I don't have any idea of what I just did.

_Harry?!_

Why does he sound so frantic…I don't understand… _…What is it, Tom?_

_What happened to you? Are you alright?!_

…_I'm fine._

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He checks me over hurriedly like a mother does a child as I lean back in the chair that resides in his office.

"You're sure you're alright…? You half collapsed when you came in here…!"

I slowly raise a hand and touch his cheek. He is…warm. "I am fine. You needn't worry so."

"But I must worry when you do things like this…!"

His anger and frustration hit me hard and I wince sharply and with lightening speed raise a hand to cover my face from the conditioning embedded in me.

There is an awful silence and I feel his aura reach out to pull mine from where it retreated behind my soul. His fingers pull my hand away from my face and I reluctantly give in.

"…I'm sorry. …I shouldn't have gotten so angry at you…"

_Look at him trying to apologize. What a perfect suck up. _My mind hisses viciously in my ear and I nearly wince once more.

"……I'm irresponsible…I know. You have every right to be angry with me."

"No…don't you dare apologize to me; it's my fault." He states almost in annoyance.

"…Fine, it's your fault." I reply quietly.

"Why are you acting like this? What's wrong?"

I frown and turn my head away where I can absorb myself in the patterns of the wallpaper. "…Nothing."

"You're not going to tell me are you?" At my wordless reply he sighs. "I'm sorry I'm such a jackass."

I laugh quietly despite myself but say nothing in return as I merely lift up both arms in the offer of reconciliation with an unclear smile plastered on my features. My mind laughs shrilly in the back round at my willingness to forgive so easily.

Relieved, he embraces me and I relax in his arms but…I don't have the heart to look him in the eyes.

"Forgive me." His voice is low and pained.

"There is nothing for me to forgive; you didn't do anything wrong." I reply just as quietly as he does and I slowly place my arms around his waist. As I stand on my toes to reach his cheek, and I kiss him very softly in the offering of goodwill. Why am I acting in this manner? I would have screamed at him at any other point.

"No, you have to understand; I'm _sorry_."

My eyes narrow slightly but I make no recognition of his words.

"Harry?"

Silence.

"_Harry_."

I clutch him to me tightly and I feel one of my hands form into a fist. "…_What_?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

Did he now? "And what would that be?"

"I was wondering…how you felt on the idea of marriage." He says haltingly and tenses.

There is a dead quiet and I unexpectedly feel especially dizzy.

"…What?"

"…How to you feel on the…concept of marriage?" His voice cracks as I pull back and stare up at him.

He gaze sets on me for about a split second before it darts away in apprehension. He takes a step backward almost unconsciously but his gaze meets mine. I am the first to lower my eyes.

"…I would like to someday."

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He quietly calms me in my mind where I ramble in circles over nothing in rootless distress.

_Love, it's all right; nothing's going to happen to you._

I exhale quietly to myself as I feelhis hand settle on my shoulder. I don't know hwy he insists that I sit in his chair when they are _his _Death Eaters but here I am. I push my glasses up as I feel them nearly slip off the edge of my nose and force myself to unwind.

…Because nothing's going to happen.

He starts to speak and I listen to him in a partly disinterested manner when it occurs to me that something is out of place. There is an aura here that shouldn't be.

_Tom, there's something wrong… _I pull my wand from my sleeve discreetly.

I feel him turn just slightly as he looks down at me. _What is it?_

_I think there are people here who shouldn't be._

He makes no move to show that's he's heard me but a moment later I hear his voice and it is dangerously low and sharp.

"All Death Eaters unmask. Now."

All comply with his unexpected order and it is then that I come face to face with the lie: none of them are Death Eaters. …But I don't think he can tell. Fakes of Severus, Lucius, and Bellatrix are not available however.

_Can you tell?_

_Yes._

…_They're preparing for an attack. …I don't think the Death Eaters that are being impersonated are dead though…I can… feel them through your Dark Mark. They're…unconscious in the dungeons._

_Stand up and leave._

_Right._

The Stupefy nearly hits me directly in the back as I am nearly to the door but he casts a Shield Charm at the last possible moment and it reflects.

_Go, now! Get Severus out of here and find everyone else and tell them to go to the 'other house'. They'll know what you mean. _

_But what about you-?_

_Just go!_

The fake Avery casts a Burning Hex at me and I hear it hit the back of the door as I shut it in a blur.

…

Thanking whatever god that looks over me that Severus wasn't unconscious, I help him into the fireplace and he speaks the name of the 'other house' in which I have no knowledge of.

And now to find Sirius. I use the Floo to see if he's in Grimmauld Place and nearly faint when I hear that he isn't there. The only person there is Remus. Oh…no. After receiving his promise to not leave and reinforce the wards, I pull my head out of the fire with the main intention of finding Sirius.

…But I can't find him! I don't know where he is! I feel like I am hyperventilating…!

I look everywhere and find no one until I hear something that sounds suspiciously like a crash. I nearly run into the wall from the fact that I stop so fast, but I somehow manage to avoid doing so very narrowly.

The scene that meets my eyes is horrific. …I've found Lucius and Bellatrix.

Bellatrix is closest to me but is sprawled out unconscious on the floor with blood trickling out of the side of her mouth and nose. A part of her robes is charred and from this it appears as if her leg has been badly burned. I only believe this from the fact that her robes match one of her legs.

However, Lucius is currently engaged in a duel with Arthur Weasely, Kingsley Shacklebot, and four other wizards I seem to have forgotten the names of.

It is then I see Draco.

The boy is just a small ways from his father and his arm is twisted in such a way it looks as if doesn't even belong on his body. But his eyes are wide open and unseeing.

No. This-!

_Don't think about it, don't think about it, **don't you dare think about it**!!_

I shove down the bile that rises in my throat and watch stupidly as Lucius continues to fight an uneven battle of himself against the Aurors. His attacks are strenuous; I can tell this nearly at once and I will my feet to move as I wandlessly form a barrier around the tiring man.

But it doesn't nearly form fast enough and as Lucius sees the movement out of the corner of his eye, he turns toward it and looks directly at me.

The Stupefy, Crucitatus, and the Expeliarmus hit him without pause along with another three curses. All I can possibly hear is his screams…!

…My mind blanks as severe, unfeeling rage blocks out anything else as I cast the Cruciatus and I don't realize that I've changed the wording as I see those wizards scream as blood splits out of their ears, noses and any other opening on their bodies, screech as bones curl inward and compress to snap when the bending point has been reached, choke off screams as internal organs burst, and shriek for one clear moment until their brains burst out of their skulls and explode.

Blood splashes my clothing roughly and I make no move to do anything about it as with the still blanked mindset of nothing but Lucius' well being I fall down to his side. …He's only unconscious…I hope. He's still alive…but something's not right.

"_Enervate_."

I thank the gods as I watch him open bleeding eyes.

He mouths something faintly from apparent inability to speak and as I realize what he's said, I nearly start to cry.

'_Please don't leave me.'_

His eyes plead me to not move and to stay with him but I cannot do anything for his wounds and I _have_ to find some way to get him, Bella, and…Draco out of here.

I drag myself over to Bellatrix and revive her. For a few moments nothing happens but then she suddenly opens her eyes. Her gaze is terrified as it sets on me, but I help her up without regard to her sudden bursting into tears and give her instructions to take Lucius and Draco to the 'other house'. She obeys swiftly and I pull myself out of the foyer to find my godfather.

I meet countless Aurors on the way to where I sense his presence, but they all drop dead to the Killing Curse I play every time I come in contact with them. They don't even have the chance to cast one spell.

…I _need_ to find Voldemort as well: I've started to feel ill from the loss of contact.

But then…but then……

…I find………….

"Hello, Harry."

…

…

…I find _you_.

…

My mind gives a mental shriek and I sense Voldemort's momentary distraction from his task at hand as I withdraw under my wall of no emotion.

"I underestimated you: I should have known you would side with him. Well, it can't be helped; whores will be whores."

I draw back even further into my barrier. Your words can't hurt me if I don't pay attention…!

"You've been a bad little boy, haven't you? …What's that on your robes?"

No eye contact. Absolutely no eye contact!

"Is that blood? I suppose you're going to have to be punished for killing all those people, dear. How does twenty-five years in Azkaban sound?" You make a reprimanding sound and I force my eyes on the wall to my left. "The silent treatment…? How childish. You think that I cannot bring you under my control without eye contact either? You were always stupid…"

You sigh sharply and suddenly you're in front of me with a paralyzing grip on my forearm and a painful hold on my chin. I try to jerk away but the hold is steel just like it always was and I as you turn my head toward you, I shut my eyes tightly in premonition.

_Call him._

_He can't come; he's fighting those Aurors…! _I cry distraughtly.

_You think he can't kill them quickly?_

…

_Call him, NOW!_

"_Imperio_. Open your eyes."

Why is the curse so strong…? Why…am I obeying? This…is wrong…Someone make him let go…I'm feeling sick…

My visions blurs for precious seconds as I stand dazed trying to regain my common sense. But I can somehow feel that I am not looking directly at you.

"Look at me Harry."

"…Why?" I can't think if any other answer as my mind won't let me form the word 'yes'.

"You shouldn't be able to resist…" Your voice is soft and angry and I blink hastily in the attempt to clear my sight even though it is futile. There is a hand on my face and shooting pain shreds through my mind as I hear a distant cry in the back round.

_Harry, where are you?! _That voice in my mind is oddly familiar…Have I known it somewhere before now?

No…not…not again…I don't want to hurt…

_Get a grip before he hexes you into oblivion! _My mind pleads in frustration.

I force my eyes to stop slipping around in my head and for myself to regain a semblance of control of my swaying frame. I think…I remember…?

"Look at me." Your voice is filled with anxiety but it doesn't occur to me right away why that might be.

_Turn away._

Obedient to my mind, I turn my head from your grip, which gives me the impression of decay melting away, and take a step backward. My vision refocuses slowly and all of the sudden I find I am aware once more.

Gradually, I turn my head in your direction and I find you staring at me at me with a mixture of amazement and horror. It is only when I feel some recognizable pain I regain my senses and look down. The skin has peeled off my fingers in such a manner that if wanted, I could dig through the flesh and reach bone.

The air is thick with the smell of rotting death. I glance slightly your way and see you've fallen against the wall murmuring to yourself quietly, holding your arms close to your person.

With a wandless spell, I repair the skin of my fingers quickly and push my protesting body to move up to you so we are no about twelve feet away from each other. As you glance up at me, your expression is one nearly akin to surprise.

"…Harry?"

"Avada Kedavra." There is a flash of green light and I watch as your body falls to the floor with a thud. Blood begins to pool from your bleeding hands and I cover my mouth in disgust. That was not as nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be.

However, as I move closer to your dead frame, I sense something out of place. Just as I acknowledge this thought within my mind, I watch as your flesh melts away along with your beard and long hair. I watch as your robes change color as well.

…No.

I've killed…

I've killed……………………………!

…

"**_NO!!!_**"

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A.O.T.I.F.: Well now…I have no idea where I came up with this. Maybe this is a filler chapter…?

I wonder who Harry killed…Tell me who you think it was.

I don't know if anyone noticed (who am I kidding, of course they noticed) but I realized that the beginning part of this chapter seems to be basically about nothing…

…I don't think I killed Draco off. But I'm not quite sure if he's going stay with us just yet either…

That scene with Harry and Voldemort was going to be longer but after a point I just cut the extra script out.

I'm sorry the plot sometimes doesn't connect well at times. I didn't want to go into detail as to the exact meeting of Lucius and Harry either so I gave you some half made up piece of crud that doesn't match the storyline at all. Remus is with the Death Eaters because in this story he and Fenrir are not mortal enemies. And to another side note, Neville is with the Death Eaters just because he wanted to be with them, etc.

Next chapter: Ultimate confrontation: Harry _versus _Dumbledore. (cackles wildly) Or not, who knows?

On another note, I apologize for the fact that I'm not going to update for about two weeks. It's spring break so what can you expect?

Please review.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: The authorities took away my fake Harry Potter ownership papers.

Disclaim her: You will track him down and engage him.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Remus, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: We not the depth of our love until the time of our departure.

Chapter 28: Recovery

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I can't think. My mind…I can't…WHAT HAVE I DONE?! Oh God…! I can't have…! NO! No! …No…! No…

The world goes black.

…

There is a touch against my arm and I open my eyes slowly. I remember…again. I feel my inconsolable tears and shame return and cannot bear to even move.

"Harry?!"

My gaze slips from where I can still see him lying and back to the floor.

"What happened?" There is a prolonged silence and then a horrified gasp. "What happened to-?!"

Oh dear god. It's…Remus. I told him…not to leave. Why…why is he here? Am I hallucinating again?

…I wish to the gods that I were.

"_OH MY GOD_!" His scream is a wail of terrible pain.

I feel my eyes close once more and lapse into nightmares.

He's coming for me; he's going to kill me. After they find out what I have done, they'll put me to death without a moment's hesitation…!

…

There is someone shaking me. The realization of what I've done returns so quickly that I feel ill. But I cannot do a thing to relieve this feeling of sickness in my stomach.

"Thank god you're all right…!"

Not…him. Anyone but…him! I can't bear to meet his eyes ever again!

Again, I try to force out the contents of my insides but to no avail.

…As if from a distance, I recognize the sensation of his arms encircling myself.

"Shh, everything is going to be all right. You're safe now."

I blindly push at his arms and feel my body connect sharply with the floor as his grip loosens. _Don't touch me!_

"Harry?!"

After what I've done, I should be killed! I should be sent to Azkaban! I should be-!!

**Calm down**,he whispers very quietly._**Calm down.**_

I feel myself being gathered into his arms and my emotional barrier breaks down in a blink of an eye as I feel myself begin to cry blindly with no restraint whatsoever.

_I killed my own godfather! I killed Sirius! I killed…!_

_Hush now. Everything will be all right. Just breathe._

_How can you fucking say that?! I killed my own godfather!_

"It wasn't your fault."

I scream into his robes as I dig my fingers into his side as hard as I possibly can with blind fury. I should have known that it was Sirius! I should have known that when he didn't resist something was terribly wrong…! How could I have been so stupid?!

"It wasn't your fault."

_Yes it was. He may try to cover up the truth to ease your pain, but you know_ _what _really_ happened._

He moves his hand in circles on my back and I calm without meaning to. My sobs gradually ease to sniffs and I give a pathetic little hiccup against his shoulder. He's taken away all of my worthless agony and pushed it back somewhere in my mind or maybe he's absorbed it as his own because I don't have any possible idea of what just happened. And from this, I cannot find any solid reason to cry anymore.

I understand…that I've…murdered my godfather, but I can't access the emotions that would normally make me scream and cry. And…I can't remember how I killed him. So did what I did really occur? …Why would I make this up?

A malicious thought springs up in my mind and my thoughts in return turn black. …He wouldn't have wiped my memory would he?

_Yes, he would._

_Shut up!_

_You shouldn't be so trusting, even if it is him,_ my mind mutters cruelly.

"I didn't erase your memory."

"………"

"I didn't."

"……………What did you do?"

"I took away what it is that makes you feel pain."

"…You have no right." No, he does not!

Out of nowhere murderous thoughts that I have not reflected upon for weeks return with full fledged support, and I cannot help but turn to them. What a fickle continuation of life this is.

_Oh yes it is! Let's kill him! Let's take his very essence away and devour it I say! He deserves no less! Do it. DO IT NOW!_

On a point where a small stretch of my sanity lingers like a lost child, it frantically tries to induce my cooperation in turning away from my treacherous mind. But why should I listen? He's taken away what makes me remember how I felt about Sirius!

I push him away forcefully and the emptiness that I usually associate with my lost magic splashes over rational thought and I am reminded powerfully of death. Oh, he will suffer! There will be no mercy! No mercy!

"Give it back you bastard! You had no right! You don't understand what he was to me!" My voice is foreign to my ears and glass shatters in the back round from my scream.

He reaches out with a hand to most likely offer consolation, but I back away with no small amount of anger. "Calm down Harry. I don't want to restrain you, but I will if necessary." His voice is soft; a voice used to soothe wild beasts.

"NO! I want you to give back my feelings! It's the only thing that proves that I exist properly!"

Without my emotions, I remain broken off from all other humans. Even though I despise being myself, I know deep down that I need physical connections in order to remain intact! …Everyone needs it.

"…You will relapse again. I don't want you that way…"

"You do not govern the way I feel! I am me! I don't care what the hell you think!" I procure my wand out of nowhere and cast the first spell I can think of, which happens to be the Cruciatus.

He casts a Disarming spell and my wand splits from my fingers to fly yards away from me. No matter, I have my wandless-

His aura asphyxiates my mind and my memory is forced down ruthlessly in a flicker of the simplest of movements. I can't remember how to cast! I can't remember anything! There's nothing…nothing!

"Now, will you please calm down?"

_And you thought he would be understanding, _my mind hisses furiously. _How naïve._

_Help me! For god's sake, help me! _

I've given up resistance; I just can't carry on!

_Then forfeit control, and I'll help you child. I'll help you; he won't hurt what is mine._

All worldly control over my limbs is released, and my mind takes command of myself while pushing me gently back into submission. This is… quiet; I do not mind. I calmly shut my eyes and pay no attention to what it means to remain a tangible existence.

I feel the severing of the connection of himself to me. My mind has slaughtered Voldemort.

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When I open my eyes, I find I am very close to his body. There is a silence that could splinter reality, and I sit up and venture closer toward where it is he lies. There is an odd kind of incomprehension within what remains of my mind. I blink.

Was Remus really here? What…happened? Was Voldemort's presence all part of a delusion as well?

Sirius' fingers are charred and I watch, as if in a body of another, myself make contact with him very gently, fingertip to fingertip. I presently find myself attempting to retch up my insides a moment later. Black fluid splatters the floor inches from his robes and I cannot stop the upheaval within myself. I choke up another amount of the burning liquid onto the wood and continue to do so until I lay slumped over and gasping for breath.

I cannot remove my gaze from his corpse…I cannot move forward. A shriek never expressed by my body before this very moment erupts from my lips and continues for what seems like an eternity.

A rushing of footsteps…and a sudden encircling of arms around my body abruptly collapses the emotional backlash and my body suddenly becomes unresponsive from the sensitivity of being near him.

_It hurts! _

**Yes, it does. ……I want you to cry, even though it will make you feel even worse about the matter. Believe me…it will help.**

I burst into tears out of my own accord just from the mere mention of what has happened and feel my death grip upon him tighten even more if that were possible. With reckless abandon, I sob into his robes, and a sense of plausible comfort comes to me from his end of the link we maintain.

He says nothing, and he lets me cry for who knows how long against him. But after a point, my tears abruptly cease from no apparent source. My frame lies lifeless against his and again much time passes. I have not the strength nor the will to do anything other than lay still at the moment. If I move I fear I will break down again.

He lifts me up and my breath comes out in a prolonged exhale. I am…through, finished. With a few whispered words I feel the tug of the Side-long Apparation spell and I nearly let myself lapse into unconsciousness. But I mustn't. If I do, I know I will…

There is the clicking of an opening of a door, and weary voices immediately begin to call out. But then there is an abrupt silence, and the voices cease.

All I can make myself concentrate on is the slow, sure sound of his footsteps on the floor. In all my tiredness, I force my numbed mind to reach out to his and seek out solace within his mind because I do not believe that I could defend my own against what I know will be nightmares.

…A tear slips down my cheek as silent as a feather on snow.

Another door clicks open and I am laid down on something very soft, a bed perhaps? He pulls off my shoes and I feel him tug off my robes, jeans, and shirt. My mind settles down deeply into his and I distantly recall being bathed at one point, but my brain continues to detach and shut down at random intervals so I am not sure if it really occurred. Again I am clothed, but I am pushed into sheets that have no measure of comfort. …I could sleep forever.

"Everything will be all right." His whisper is soft--a call to endless sleep. I cannot help but comply; I shut my eyes, and the burden of my godfather's death departs as I enter a slumber of emptiness and deep abandon of material things.

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I don't know why I give in to his coaxing to come down to breakfast.

I am dully surprised as I see the Death Eaters at the table. Somewhere in the back of my mind where I still function properly, I take a guess and say that they're here to stay. It's not safe anymore…I suppose…but when was it ever?

I am worn out and do not wish to start any semblance of a conversation. The nagging of the murder I've committed pounds in a headache and I can only wish I was back in bed trying to get myself sleep as after I fell asleep, I woke up and could not make my mind stop the repetition of every movement I made until I caused my godfather's death. …I cried again and I felt his acute awareness of this action the entire time I sobbed into the pillows. He did nothing, and in the back of my thoughts, I was grateful beyond belief.

……I can't connect with him on a matter such as this.

"Have some eggs, you'll feel a little better after eating something." He slides a plate to me and I look at it blankly; I don't want to eat anything. The very smell of food makes nausea rise up in my stomach and I nearly cannot control the overwhelming urge to be sick over the table.

My voice comes across as a small child's, and I want to slap myself. "I don't want anything Tom."

"Toast then."

"…Fine. Just remove the eggs from my sight." The desire to vomit is still very high and I cannot help being cross.

"All right." His voice is filled with unhappiness and I force myself to not look him in the eyes. I watch my fingers begin to shred the bread carefully; I want to scream out loud from the pain I cannot express.

Slow and sure footsteps make their way to my side and I acknowledge this loosely as I continue to tear what once was toast to crumbs. A smile begins to form unheeded upon my features and I nearly laugh out loud at the sudden thought. What ever did happen to my owl?

I look up, noticing offhandedly that the table appears to have gone oddly quiet, and nearly faint. Even my mind goes still.

"…Harry."

I cannot force breath into my lungs; I feel as if I am going to collapse.

"May I speak with you?" It is not a question.

Words would mean nothing in this situation. I push back from my chair and stand slowly while grasping the arm of the chair in order to steady my legs; I imagine I am going to black out.

I follow Remus out of the dining hall while procuring a staff in which to bear myself upon: my body will not willingly support me, and I am in no position to have my legs give out from under me. I walk after him as a dog does his master and focus my gaze on his straightened back as I try to ease my steps into something smoother than what I am currently putting forth.

He leads me outside. The bright sunlight burns my eyes severely and I have to turn my sight to the ground in a hurry in order to see properly. I continue to follow the sound of his footsteps, considering the fact that my vision still has not cleared, and nearly run into him when he unexpectedly stops short.

I believe…that he has led me to an area in which appears to be broken off from the rest of the grounds. The shade of a willow tree enables me to look up from the dirt I had fixed my eyes upon, but from disgrace I turn my gaze toward somewhere behind his left shoulder. I shouldn't have even gone after him when he told me to do so. I should have just let him exterminate me in the dining room.

"I should…put an end to your life here and now. But…it is not right. Tell me…_your_ side of the story. I will give you that much." His voice is strained unlike anything I have ever heard before. …I am afraid.

"…I don't know…what you want me to say to you. I…it wasn't…" My voice trembles to give off the exact amount of fear running in my veins at the moment.

"_Tell me before I rip your throat out!_" I doubt that his scream can be heard as far as the Dark Lord's house. I shouldn't be caring for stupid matters such as this!

He's going to kill me! …But I want him to kill me.

I don't want to die! …I deserve death.

_Your self-pity is revolting._

He grasps me by the front of my robes and I am lifted a good few feet off the ground. I know he can feel me shaking in his grip and I flinch as he his fingers dig into the flesh and nearly break through.

"…Dumbledore cast…the Imperious on him or something! I don't know what he did! Ah-!" His grip tightens sharply and he slaps me across the face viciously, letting me topple to the ground in a heap.

There is a rustling of fabric and he takes hold of my hair roughly, turning my head to him. I hear myself give a weak whimper as he backhands me once more. "Enough with your lies! I am not letting you live to hear you spew rubbish. Tell the truth!"

"It is the truth…! Ah-Ow! Sirius…attacked me! He wore the form of Dumbledore and then… assaulted me! He was most likely under the Polyjuice; how else could he have-! I didn't know! I should have though! What kind of bastard doesn't…even recognize…oh god…" I start to cry again, pitiful tears not worth the time of anyone. "It's all my fault! Remus, kill me! Kill me before I cause you anymore harm!"

I let myself become dead in his grip, expecting entirely for him to do just as he said he would. But when his grip leaves me, and I am left alone without warning, I cannot help but be at a loss and terrified. But then I hear the broken sound of crying.

I dare to open my own eyes and make out the hunched form of my godfather's lover pressed against the tree. I carefully rise to my feet and hobble over to him as well as I can: I am still shaking.

My voice is soft. "……Remi?" I venture in a whisper, drawing on the affectionate name for him that I used a long time ago; maybe when I was still happy. I gently touch him on the shoulder though completely expecting him to strike me back. He turns slightly, defeated, and I pull him toward me with extensive care in the gesture. His arms go around my middle and he clutches at my upper back.

I pull him closer to me out of no reason than to be closer to the last remnant of my godfather's legacy and hear him give a weak moan of grief into my robes in response. I know that if I leave him be he'll kill himself.

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I've been lying in the bath for a matter of hours, during which I had to reheat the water twice. No one's come to bother me, and I am currently toying with the idea of drowning myself: drowning to death is classic; it just has a certain allure. But all in all, I can't: I'm just too weak to make myself die now.

"How long have you been there?"

"How long have you been standing there?" I ask in return. I lazily blow at the water and watch it ripple like something I have seen before.

"About twenty minutes or so. What about you?"

"…Three and a half hours." I reply casually.

"I think you should get out of the tub." He says slowly after a few seconds.

I think he should leave before I lash out on him. I am in no disposition to entertain his theories. "I think you should shut your mouth."

"What happened to your face?"

"What ever do you mean?" I ask quietly.

"The side of your face is red…like someone slapped you." The veiled question is not subtle; he should know that.

"No one touched me."

"Of course not. Because you would tell me if anyone ever hurt you, wouldn't you?" His voice is curiously cutting.

"What are you trying to say?" I know exactly what he is implying. And again, my speculation that he cannot connect with me on matters such as family death is reaffirmed from his word choice.

"Who did this to you?"

"Did what? I have no idea what you are trying to say. Honestly, if you stopped talking in riddles, I believe I could understand you much better," I respond quite innocently.

"Stop your lies."

"How could I be lying when you have not asked me anything?" He really has no understanding. And no one can comfort me; anyone that could is either incapacitated or…_dead_.

I turn my head toward him and he recoils violently as if struck. I blink up at him and Voldemort exhales forcefully and takes an unsteady step backward. Observing him distantly, I watch as he takes a sharp hold of the doorframe and clings to it almost as if it is his last lifeline in the entire world.

"I am beside myself at the moment. I suggest you leave before I hurt you in manner that I will later regret."

His voice is low and quavers in repressed emotions. "N-no."

"Fine…! But I will do as I please in my own time." I turn away and hear him slide to the tiled floor with a soft thump. What could he have seen in me to make him so frightened of myself? …I don't care.

"…Why are you angry with me?"

I sit up a little in the tub to glance at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Why are you angry with me? I can't help the fact the fact that I don't understand your pain, but I want to know why you are irritated with me."

"I am not angry with you."

"…Yes, you are. When you looked at me just now, you looked as if you wanted to kill me." His voice is nothing above a murmur.

I sink back into the bathtub so the only thing above water is my head. "I'm…unwell." I whisper quietly.

"…I know."

"I don't want your help. …You don't understand anything about this."

"I'll try…to help you." He says softly and I realize that he's stood again and is right next to me. He places a hand in my damp hair and I sink further into the water out of embarrassment. …I should have trusted him.

"Will you please remove yourself from the water? It is not good to remain submerged for an extended amount of time; I don't want you to get ill."

"…Help me up?"

"Of course." He takes me under the arms and pulls me easily out of the water to a standing position. I step from the tub carefully and he wraps me around the shoulders into a large, soft towel that covers me to a point somewhere after my knees. I immediately begin to shiver; the room is cold and he only thing keeping me warm was the water.

"Dress and I'll light a fire. This house is farther north than the other one is."

He leads me into the bedroom and I wander off to the closet though I can only open it after using both arms. After an extensive amount of searching and becoming submerged into the closet, I begin to find my clothes. Damn the wardrobe is deep.

I quickly pull on socks, underwear and a pair of sweatpants and am in the process of putting a T-shirt on when he comes up behind me and removes the shirt from my hands. I turn in inquiry, but he reaches behind me and pulls a different garment from the wardrobe.

"This is better." He pulls the long sleeve shirt over my head and I give a muffled sound of protest but stick my arms through the sleeves at any rate. "Much better. And it even matches your eyes."

I frown faintly and dry my hair with the towel I deserted moments ago. In the course of this action, he pulls me away from the closet and toward him. When I feel a sudden warmth, I would have to guess the fireplace: the towel is covering my head.

He pulls the towel from my head and discards it on the opposite chair beside the one he is occupying. The Dark Lord tugs me into his lap and I relax next to him, curling up against his chest. I am exhausted out of imagination. We lapse into a calm silence.

"……………He was buried yesterday."

"…Oh." Pain flares and strikes into my soul viciously and it is a taxing measure to restrain my sudden onslaught of tears. "…When I was sleeping?" I am grateful that I didn't have to go to his funeral…I know that it seems selfish to think in this manner… but…I don't think I could not bear to see him being lowered…into the ground…

"…Yes. I did not think it would be wise to wake you." He pauses and his voice drops even further. "I had him buried next to your parents in Godric's Hollow. …I thought…that you would maybe…like that…"

"…Thank you." As I move slightly in order to kiss him on the cheek, he brushes away my tears gently and replaces the necklace that I thought I lost forever.

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A.O.T.I.F.: And I'm back from spring break! Honestly, the beach is so dirty. _That's_ why it is so much better to go abroad. Ugh and those nasty seagulls, stealing right from your very hands!

Thank you for all the reviews, I really appreciate it!

Hm…this chapter turned out rather…odd. Ah no worries, I knew Dumbledore was not going to make an appearance after all the crud going on.

There may be some anger with the fact that Sirius didn't have a proper funeral Harry in attendance, etc. Very depressing and all but think about logically, could it really have happened with 1. Sirius being wanted for mass murder, 2. Harry being wanted, 3. Voldemort part of a manhunt, 4. everybody injured…must I go on?

Very sad stuff going on (sighs), but it couldn't be helped. Yes, doggy boy went bye-bye. (hopefully) Anyone cry? (snorts) I doubt it. This story isn't too sappy for the most part…

That scene in which Harry apparently hallucinated was strange…

O-kay. Here's the next chapter possibility (who am I kidding, it will be the next chapter's content): finally, the encounter we've all been eagerly anticipating: the Dark, with Harry as the representative (and Voldemort) versus the Light, with Dumbledore as the representative. (dramatic pause) Aw, forget it. Who's still reading at this point?

…Grades are coming out…and work from the last six weeks is coming back…I don't even want to think about it. That awful test is coming up in May as well…I _might_ not update until I take it, sorry reviewers; I have to study.

Please review.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.

Disclaim her: That which threatens us is the enemy.

Note: Out of character with: Harry, Lucius, Dumbledore, Severus, and Voldemort…

Rating: M for Mature.

Point of View: First.

"speech" _thoughts_ and/or _mind speech _(Harry and Voldemort) **Parseltongue**

I do not own the quote below.

A/N: The ones you'll miss the most are the ones that leave the soonest.

I can't believe it ended like this. …What a twist! (sighs) Jeez… Please, review.

Chapter 29: Finale: The Dirge Without Music

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Of course he's not _afraid_. He doesn't have a paranoia complex like I do!

…But that just makes me feel worse.

He cards his fingers through my hair gently as can be and distractedly presses a kiss to my temple while rising from the bed, drawing on his outer robes as he goes. The moment the door closes, I slam my fist into the headboard as hard as I am physically able and exhale violently as I hear a sharp crack.

He just doesn't understand!

I…I…I don't even know what I can tell him anymore! It's just…!

Doesn't he realize that Dumbledore is out for blood and he won't stop at anything to get it?! …He underestimates you…just as he always does.

…

…

I don't want him to die…!

_Why don't you find yourself a religion? That whole idea of an afterlife seems nice._

_Shut the hell up!_

…_After all, _praying_ only works when you're directing it toward someone._

_I said, __**shut the hell up**_

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I viciously shove down the urge to take flight and compel myself to go to Lucius' side.

His smile never wavers as he looks up at me with happiness. It is futile to try to covey a copy of what he presents to me back to him so I lean in and press myself against him as hard as I dare with his ribs bound as they are. After a moment, I pull back and find his eyes unusually bright.

I slip my fingers under his palm and breathe out again with forced control.

"Lucius, I'm…afraid."

…There have been speculations that Lucius may never regain his voice.

"…I know I shouldn't…because _he's_ there to protect me…but I think that Tom takes Dumbledore too lightly…I don't want him to get killed."

Lucius' grip tightens very slightly and I look up. He merely gives me a wavering but also reassuring smile and I force down a sob harshly. This is not the time for me to break down.

Not a_gain_!

I scrub at my eyes roughly in order to wipe away the tears but it is relatively useless. His arm gently touches my own and I give a sharp intake of breath out of my increasing disquiet. Sliding down beside him, I curl up next to his frame in a pitiable fetal position.

"Lucius, help me." I'm so fucking _selfish_!

_You never even could help yourself._

His hand pauses in my hair and I choke again on my tears as he finds my fingers. Lucius' arm trembles almost unnoticeably, and I know it takes an extensive amount of effort to perform this simple action in order to comfort the thing I cannot even pass off as human.

"Please, help me." I want him to, even though I know he can't. I can't and _won't _go to _him_. It doesn't matter how much I love him; he just doesn't understand _you_!

His hand delicately finds a way in which to clasp itself to my own, and my sobs become uncontrollable.

I'm so afraid.

Why can't I seem to control myself anymore? Why am I so weak?!

…I hate this.

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"Don't leave again."

_That's right, beg._

His hand pauses on the door handle and I take in a shaky breath.

"Please, stay with me."

He turns in question, and I feel my legs give warning on their imminent collapse as his gaze alights on my eyes. My own gaze strays to somewhere along his shoulder and decides to fix itself at that point.

_You're repulsive._

"Please."

His footsteps make no sound on the carpet. "What's wrong?" Red eyes attempt to meet green, but dead green close in humiliation.

"…I just want you to stay with me." My voice is nothing more than a whisper.

He lifts my chin and I avert my eyes. "What is bothering you?"

"…Just…stay with me…_please_." The last word is a plea and I feel my closed eyes tear. I shouldn't be breaking up like this _again_!

"All you had to do was ask," he answers questioningly. Voldemort then says nothing for a few moments and I cannot bear for him to look at me. "…Will you tell me what is the matter? Is this about…your godfather?"

The words nearly don't sound off. "…No." I feel a tear burn it's way down my cheek and drop from my chin.

"Will you tell me what is wrong?" His fingers brush at the tear streak and I barely restrain myself from choking.

I don't even know myself. How could I tell him why I am acting like such a pathetic excuse for a human being again when I myself do not know why? "Hold me?" My eyesight flickers off to the side once more.

He pulls me to him and slides his arms around my waist while resting his chin on the top of my head. I do the same and press myself to him in such a submissive manner I make myself want to heave. But…I still want him here all the same. I want to know that he cares for me.

"…Will…you……will you……?"

"Do you _really_ want to?" He falters at my request: he knows I never take incentive with matters such as _this_.

"…Please." I hate sounding so weak. But I cannot help it as much as I cannot stop breathing.

Maybe if we do this then I can forget for a time…that…

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"I'm going after him and we're going to settle this once and for all. He's never going to hurt you again." There is a gut-wrenching pause. I really don't feel very well. "…Are you going to come?" He doesn't think that my current state of being is being caused by you, does he? …Then again, I wouldn't put it past you for a second.

Inwardly I want fold in upon myself and just collapse. Does the fact I am bonded with him mean nothing?! I should feel better with him! I shouldn't feel sick anymore.

_You know what's really amiss._

_Things like that just _don't _happen!_

_Suit yourself. Just explain _that_ to your lover._

…

…But I have to be strong. I have to be, don't I…Sirius? Because…I have to make things…right?

"Don't worry, I'll protect you…"

I don't want to go to Hogwarts. …I know someone's…going to get……!

"…I promise." Shouldn't I be grateful?

"…"

I look up slowly from where I was staring at the ground and into his eyes, unsmiling. His features relax as I finally relent and he holds me close. But I just want to stay exactly where I am: he just doesn't _understand_.

_He just wants you safe. He wants to _protect _you._

_All he's doing is making me _miserable

…

…

I Apparate myself in front of the gates to Hogwarts castle and the Dark Lord appears beside me a split second later. Seconds later he casts a number of spells upon me to protect me from any kind of wayward magic.

Sharp cracks alert me to the Death Eaters' arrivals and I stick myself close to the Dark Lord's side. I mustn't…be separated from him.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

_Sweetheart, I love you._

_Yes, I know. I-_

"My Lord, the teachers are coming down from the castle."

My gaze cracks to the top of the hill the Hogwarts castle lies on and sure enough I see the teachers coming down to meet us. Voldemort rises to action so quickly, I cannot even begin to grasp the action. The Stunner shoots over my head, rifling my hair and he curses in Parseltongue as he pushes me to my knees.

_You needn't protect me so. I want to help you. _

Yes, and I also want to _protect_ you, I murmur as an afterthought.

His gaze turns to mine for a split second before he deflects a Burning Hex. But in the look is what I had never hoped to receive. He _trusts_ me to protect as he does me.

…

I blast the gates open with my wandless magic and force down the wards with a will much stronger than yours, and even though it requires nearly no effort at all, I find I want to waste my magical energy away. It's been far too long since I've hurt anything or anyone. As my sadistic urges reemerge, and I see that a combination of Ministry Aurors and teachers coming my way, the will to live returns full throttle and I take the first incentive I can remember in a long time in taking charge.

I can feel the Death Eaters following behind me and the battle up the hill for _myself_ is a small one. I slaughter half the Aurors with a mere thought and permanently scar most of the teachers for the moment, if not for life, with a number of Dark spells that include burning one from the inside out to pulling bones from the skeleton while the person is still alive and breathing. It is a shame.

I turn just for a moment to find him just a few feet away from me, crimson eyes upon me, and I find myself carelessly smiling in his direction just because I-

It is at that point in time where the Killing Curse is shot at me with such a fervor I nearly cannot get my magical shield up in time to block it. They're fools if they really think that the Unforgivables are indeed unable to be blocked. Searching for the culprit who decided it was time for my life to end, my eyes travel up the steps to find that blood traitor Weasely with Hermione. Hermione's wand is held high and I have the sudden craving to watch her bleed down the steps until her veins run dry.

Again the Killing Curse rains down on me but at this point I am prepared and deflect it angrily back at her. Unfortunately, she steps out of range and Ron is hit instead. …Her scream makes my head hurt; I swear she's part harpy.

But in all seriousness, by the time she recovers her wits I have come to the base of the steps and am prepared to pull her heart out in the worst ways possible.

Her eyes narrow. "Hello Harry. Have you been a good boy?"

Can't she tell who in the hell is behind me? "Are you _mad_?! You're a dead woman."

"It doesn't matter Harry. _He's _coming." Her face goes into a spasm in which at the end one eye has become a different color and is opened so wide the skin has torn and now bleeds. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it. He's going to kill you. He's not _playing_ anymore."

I am in front of her before I know what has happened and straddling her across the hips with my hands clenched around her throat. This time I'm going to _finish_ the job. No more half-assed attempts on lives like I did with Neville. No spells. Just…me. Her eyes bulge and I squeeze even harder until her breath suddenly chokes off and I hear as well as feel the glorious shattering of her neck. Blood splatters my face and, irritably, I wipe it from the lenses of my glasses as I straighten up.

Footsteps come to meet my side and I turn just slightly. Voldemort's covered in blood as well. Well, I know I'm through when I start finding that attractive. I look up slightly to meet his eyes and he chuckles softly. "That was vile. A bit barbaric, but a lovely job."

I laugh quietly in response and he breaks into a half smile and ruffles my hair. …I don't mind; he's…proud of me. No one's ever been _proud _of me. That makes me…_happy_.

The Dark Lord turns to the amassed group Death Eaters behind him. "You have your orders and you know that you are to kill any Auror you find or any student who decides to resist you. You know who is one of us. …Get to work."

…While the smoke from the doors of the Great Hall I just burned down clears, I turn back around and look back down the hill. The fight continues seemingly evenly with the Aurors not even attempting Dark spells and the Death Eaters firing them off with an eagerness that would be praised if actually perceived.

As I turn back to the scene at hand, I find that the Death Eaters have ventured off into the smoke and that Voldemort and I are alone once more. His larger hand slips into my own and I feel him tighten his grip, whether in reassurance or anxiety I don't know. But he moves forward, and I follow obediently just like a child does with a parent.

As we move forward into the castle, the sound of screams begin to sound in my ears and I watch students freeze in horror as they see Voldemort and screech at the top of their lungs. But he pays them no attention, and it is left to me to cut their voices short so I don't receive a headache later on today.

Remus unexpectedly streaks past me with Fenrir at his side and in curiosity I turn forward to see the blood traitor's sister shooting hexes at the two with a ferocity I haven't seen from her before. Why won't they block the spells…? I put an end to that little wench with a well aimed Cruciatus Curse and watch as her mind breaks down as we walk by. …Voldemort shows his satisfaction of this action by pressing a feather-light kiss into my hair.

I climb the staircase with the Dark Lord and this time my legs don't buckle as we approach your office. But you have to be close; why would you wait for us to come to you? That would be just…stupid. Then again, old age does make fools of the…best.

As we climb the last of the stairs, I find you descending the staircase to your office at the exact moment we reach the top step. The corridor is silent as I watch your eyes widen at my appearance. However, your gaze then flickers to the Dark Lord then to me once more in question, your expression unreadable.

"Tom, what have you done with him?"

"I've done nothing, Dumbledore." Your reply is quiet and I stamp down the want to flee. I will not run away. Not this time.

"Harry, come here." The words are a bitter command and I grimace at your voice. No, I will not! Never again!

It takes a moment to find my voice and when I finally do, it is sound. "NO!" …The windows nearly rattle off their frames.

Your demeanor changes like lightening and becomes remote and distasteful. "Listen to reason Harry. He'll kill you eventually and-"

"Like you weren't going to either?! I've had enough of your lies!" I scream in a rage that nearly threatens to escape my grasp entirely.

The Dark Lord's grip on my hand tightens just a fraction.

There is a brief yet horrible silence. "…So. You'd side with the man who killed your parents. …This is your last chance to give in. Otherwise, I will not be responsible for my actions." go mad

"Like I'd give in to _you_?!" I shout in an anger that this time imperceptibly touches off into the deep end. And at this point, some windows in fact do shatter.

The sudden and unexpected Stunning Spell cast by you rebounds off my shield with ease, but the Dark Lord pushes me behind him and draws his wand. He casts the Killing Curse but you draw up a wall of water which neutralizes any effect that the Curse may have had upon yourself.

_Transform and protect yourself! A Basilisk's skin is nearly impenetrable._

Complying without one complaint I slip into my Animagus form and draw back from the battle. It's just as well; I didn't want to fight you one on one. I seem to become curiously weak when trying to face you head on, and it is not a favorable thing to happen in a duel. As I send my vision through Voldemort's eyes I find your face dawn in comprehension and nearly open my eyes to knock you dead right then and there. But he wants to do this the old-fashioned way. …So I let him be and curl into myself while remaining alert. It wouldn't do to get knocked out by some wayward hex.

And even though I know that he can hold his own, I begin to weave a barrier of protective magic around his being just because I'd care to have him alive tomorrow and not in a casket outside the Manor.

You attempt to expel his wand from him and nearly succeed but at the last moment Voldemort manages to maintain his grasp on the wood and I shrink back even further, if that were even possible.

Again, he casts the Killing Curse and like last year, Fawkes comes to take the blow to your life. But you're running out of options; he's backed you into a corner and there is nothing that can be done for you anymore.

Voldemort casts the Curse again, but miraculously you manage to dodge the spell, though I can see it was by a fraction of inch and that your reflexes are slowing down. That's just too bad.

But…something's wrong. A fraction of second passes in which the realization of what you're doing catches up with me.

There is no opportunity to change back into my human form. _TOM, GET OUT OF THE WAY!_

He takes a step and twists around to face me. No, turn back!

I open my harmless gaze onto him and his eyes meet mine. No.

You finally let loose the Dark Curse you had built up in the span of a mere two seconds of ignorance and in utter terror I lunge out for him, wanting-no, _needing _to throw myself in front of the Curse to protect him, to do anything to prevent the magic from making contact with his body.

The white light shakes the entire building to its roots and after a moment the ceiling and walls burst in a flurry of stone and scatter to the winds. …The magic assaults me dead on and without surprise, I find it slips off me like rainwater. But the energy behind it is fatal, and it reminds me of the sensation of being hit by lightening.

I push through the continuing spell with no small amount of effort until I am close enough to see the whites of your eyes, if you would actually open them, that is. What a pathetic wizard you are: some basilisks can make their sight fatal at will.

The Dark Curse at last ceases, and I lunge at you to kill. And yet, at that exact moment, in the split second of where I am about to make contact with your neck and put an end to your pathetic excuse for a life, you raise your wand, completely unafraid with your eyes wide open. The words are so faint I nearly don't catch them.

"_Avada Kedavra_."

You stupid man, haven't you realized…Wait.

… It wasn't _me_ he was aiming at, it was-!

The Curse catches Voldemort unawares, and it _breaks through every single one of_ _my shields_ _as if they were never there to begin with_. …The green jet of light impales him directly in chest like Godric's sword pierced the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

He doesn't cry out. In fact…he doesn't…make one sound.

As I rear myself in at the last possible instant and turn towards him, his scarlet gaze meets mine and I cannot tear myself away. It seems to take him…ages to fall and…and…my eyes follow his lethal descent until he…he crumples to the floor and…then there is deathly silence.

I…I…

Rage unlike anything I've felt before fills this new unforeseen emptiness in my mind and body as I whip around to face you. There is no hesitation. But I do see…scarlet…as I wrench off your head with a ruthless snapping of my jaw. Red hits the air to then come down in a rain, which afterward proceeds to splatter the floor and myself…but I… As the haze of rage deserts me, I move myself into my human form with some difficulty and…move myself to…

He looks…as if he is sleeping.

I can't seem to bring myself to cry: I've gone curiously numb. How…strange.

Distractedly and unconsciously, I pull his wand from his fingertips, lightly brushing his palm, which happens to be colder than I remember. I pocket the twin phoenix core wand, placing the piece of worn wood with my own wand, and carefully sit myself down by his side. And now I find the ability to tell him what I couldn't find the nerve to earlier.

…

…

Footsteps approach from somewhere behind me. I haven't the will to turn.

"Harry?"

Who is that? Do I know you?

I trace the infinity sign into his cold, cold palm, a small smile lighting my features. He isn't dead. He's just in a deep, unreachable slumber. That's why he won't answer me mentally. But that's okay, because he isn't _dead_. He'll wake up. He won't _abandon_ me.

He wouldn't do something that cruel to me. He _loves_ me.

"What happened? Is the Dark Lord…dead?" Graying sandy brown hair and a set of deep brown eyes.

Have we met before? I can't…recall.

"Harry, look at me." Ebony hair and a pair charcoal black eyes.

Excuse me, who are you?

"Everything's going to be all right, come with me now."

I'm terribly sorry, but I don't think I know you.

What do you think you're doing?! Don't you dare try to separate me from my lover! Get away! Get away from me!

A murmur of voices……and more footsteps.

A white gloved hand settles upon my own, and I'm gently being pulled up, up, up to my feet. Unsteadily, I try to reach out to him and nearly feel myself topple over. But there are those white gloves again, holding me just so kindly I find myself maintaining by precarious balance. But looking up, I find a sea of faces I cannot differentiate…Who is there? Beyond me, who is there? I don't…I…

Platinum blond hair and matching soft gray eyes. "…Love, it's okay. I'm going to take you home."

Ah…

Meaningless shapes become comprehensible again and my eyes finally tear: he isn't sleeping. He's…

Flinching back from the silent judgment of the Death Eaters who maintain an odd so circle around myself and…_him_, I relinquish my hold on everything and at last let Lucius take me into his arms.

I never…even told him…I…loved him…as well.

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Cremated. A scarlet jar so deeply red it seems black sits somewhere on the bedside table. Dead. That's it. Flat out. But everything will be…all right? A distant memory: _"I'm not well, am I?" _And then the reply: _"No, you're not."_ …A silver serpent tightens its hold on an emerald and a frail youth cries in the back round in pain, unable to desist. Cracking, the sound of a curious stick snapping in half.

_But that's what you wanted, wasn't it?_

The golden band. The signifying of a union among true lovers. But the presenter of this gift is gone, burned to ash, so the would be receiver can only lament his loss after the discovery of the ring in a desk drawer and what might have been. Cries of…anguish. …But the color won't fade. All that is seen is the scarlet, the crimson, the color of blood. It remains burned into the retina's core and nothing can remove the image from sight.

The…child.

**No, I don't want to hear this!**

_You will listen. _

…The child. The most complete and absolute sense of devotion and commitment there is. The _mother_ cries endlessly, mad with the loss of _her_ beloved, yet the father will not return from the deceased. He can only watch. …Nevertheless, the _mother_ will not put an end to _her_ dirge without music. _She's_ defeated. Wasted. …Useless.

And yet…the child provides a hope the _mother_ has never had. It presents the idea that indeed everything will turn out well.

_He knew you loved him._

…

…

I chance a look upwards from the blankets in my arms, wiping away my tears with the back of my free hand and my smile shakes. Severus smiles at me wordlessly and Remus does the same, words unnecessary. Lucius is the one who comes close and he kisses my forehead in a manner that is all too familiar.

"…He would be _proud_." His voice is soft and soothes me.

And in the small moment in which I look beyond Lucius, I see _him_ looking upon me with utter adoration. My smile solidifies and turns brilliant as I look back down at the sleeping infant within my arms.

Quietly, without being sure of doing so, I find my voice and I speak. "…I'm going to name him…Tom…" A good name.

After the man who cherished me with all his heart.

…After the man I _loved_.

End.


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